Deliverance
by savedbygrace94
Summary: "Calling him an ice brat or a mutt doesn't change his worth. He has power and I will wield it one way or another. Don't roll your eyes and act as if you haven't felt it. Infant though he may be, he holds enough power to end the world without breaking a sweat. All he needs is someone willing to break him in order to unleash it." When Pitch has his prey, Jacks become Jökuls.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to the World

**A/N: Hey all I'm back! Kinda long hiatus but I really wanted to think through this one before diving in! Many thanks to all my lovely readers who are joining from Immortal, you guys rock! And for all you first timers just jumping on this boat: WELCOME! I can't wait to hear form you guys! **

**Shout outs:**

**Bug349: Thanks so much and I hope you like this one!**

**Magiccatprincess: lol she was so much fun to write!**

**MysteriousSherlock: Aww no I love Jack! His angst just makes such great stories…. Speaking of which this will be angsty so be forewarned (but the eventual ending is happy!)**

**Rezzkat: HERE TIS! NEWWWW STORY! Can't wait to hear what you think!**

**Taylor Rose: Oh gosh thanks for the tip, I almost forgot to change it! **

**UltimateNinjaOfDoom: Thanks!**

**Firedrakegirl: glad you enjoyed it!**

**EmperialGen21: Here's a new story to cushion the blow! Enjoy!**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians_

Chapter 1: Welcome to the World

He hadn't been too terribly hard to find. The woods had been alive with the excited whisperings of a new little winter sprite since the moment the pond gave birth to him. And just as a babe stayed close to its mother's breast, so too the sprite hung close to the icy banks. But Pitch didn't need the whisperings to know where the spirit would be, he had been present for the birth, present for the discovery that he truly was alone, and now, on his second night of existence, Pitch would be there to comfort.

He hung back in the shadows and watched as the boy played alone, talking to himself as he decorated the trees in their ethereal frost garbs and laughing into the wind as it lifted him as though he weighed no more than a snowflake. Hung back until he saw the child settle on the banks of the pond and his shoulders began to heave with tears that would only freeze on his skin.

Pitch set an ashen hand on the frost-covered shoulder. The boy yelped and skittered away, the wind moving him as much if not more than his feet. His eyes were wide and Pitch's mouth split into a sharp-toothed grin.

"Hello, little winter sprite," The Nightmare King said and crouched down to meet the boy's stare.

The boy swallowed. "You…you can see me?" His voice was caught in that strange time between childhood and adulthood. Hints of what could have been a rich baritone mix with the trills of a child's voice.

Pitch dipped his head and smiled again. "Of course frost child, all spirits can see each other."

"Spirits?"

"Yes little one, you are a spirit. As am I."

"Oh." The boy seemed to relax a little, the wind setting him down—albeit a bit sloppily—in a snow bank. "Are there…others?"

"Yes, many. But they are dangerous creatures and we must avoid them at all costs." Pitch reached his hand forward and the boy took it hesitantly. "Do you have a name, little one?"

"Jack Frost."

Pitch chuckled. "How very clever! Did you think of it all by yourself? Such talent!"

"No, the moon told me so."

The smile melted from Pitch's face. "The Moon?"

The boy nodded. "When I came out of the pond."

Pitch grabbed the boy's shoulder. "Never, ever speak to the moon again! Do you hear me, snowflake? He is a dangerous spirit. He will only bring you hurt." The Nightmare King paused when he felt the boy squirm in his grasp and let go when he saw the boy's wide blue eyes fill with fear. It was absolutely delicious, but there would be time enough for that later. "Have I frightened you, Jack? I'm sorry. I only meant to give warning to keep you safe. That's all I want."

Jack nodded slightly, but kept his distance, his hands clenching the staff. Pitch smiled again. "Jack, child, come now and don't be frightened. Show me what you can do!"

"Do?"

"Yes, boy! Show me all the wondrous gifts you have brought the world! What are your talents?"

The boy's eyes lit back up a little at the prospect of sharing. He was a bit of a showoff, Pitch was sure of that. But he didn't look at it as a trait to be remedied, rather a venue to be expanded.

With a wave of his staff the boy sent a shock of ice across the surface of the lake, allowing the wind to lift his lanky form into the air. White hair flying, he touched trees with the staff, sending frost spiraling down the evergreens and firs as the staff began to glow and a tentative snow fell from the sky. Pitch laughed delightedly at the boy's work. Such potential in such a moldable package! The man in the moon couldn't have possibly sent him a better birthday present.

Jack landed a ways off, cheeks flushed blue with his excitement, and flash froze a bare bush in his rush. Pitch clapped and laughed again as he slowly inched his way towards the sprite.

"Wonderful, Jack! Just wonderful!"

Jack smiled. "Really?"

"Absolutely! I've never seen anyone with a talent like yours!" The boy was within reach. Pitch held out a hand, his own excitement unable to be curbed. The boy looked as if he was going to take the hand when he suddenly stopped and began to draw back. Something was not right here. Something was wrong and every instinct within him told him to run far away from this creature.

"Take my hand, Jack," Pitch said and leaned a bit closer. "I know a great place where we can go."

Jack shook his head. Instinct said to fly, so that's what he would do. But before the wind had a chance to wrap its arms around its frost child, ashen fingers gripped Jack's wrist tightly and wrenched the staff away. With a cry, Jack fell from the sky, one shadowed hand deftly catching him and pinning his arms to his chest. Pitch threw the staff into a nearby shadow, smiling when the boy stopped fighting him long enough to shudder when it disappeared.

"Let me go!" He screamed. "Help! Someone help!"

Pitch muffled his cries with a hand across his mouth and tightened his grip on the boy's body.

"Shhh," Pitch cooed. "Hush now my little frost spirit. All will be well."

Jack kicked out both legs jerking frantically against the arms holding him. The moon shone brightly above them. Pitch grunted when one of the wild kicks hit its mark. He was quickly loosing his patience. Tightening his grip on the teen's jaw, he placed his other hand over the boy's eyes, releasing a tiny bit of his newest experiment. Dream sand that cast the dreamer into a deep sleep, filled with nightmares. Wouldn't Sanderson be proud?

The boy grew lax in his grasp, eyes lolling as Pitch ran his fingers through the white hair. "Rest now," He cooed. "My little Jökul Frosti."

**o.O I got creeped out writing this. Pitch….*shudder* Anywho, do your thing with those buttons below and I will post chapter 2 soon!**


	2. Chapter 2: Mother to Us All

**A/N: Oh my gosh guys I really wasn't expecting such an amazing response to this story! Thank you so much for all the favs, follows and reviews. Shoutouts to:**

**Dragon In The Mirror: haha I had no idea I was following a legend like that! Cool!**

**Guest: Because it was a name given by the moon and Pitch didn't want to reinforce the fact that Jack was the moon's creation. Also, Jökul Frosti has a much more ominous feel, don't you think?**

**Guest: Here, have another chapter to feed the addiction! Just kidding, but enjoy all the same!**

**MelTheAngryVegan: He is quite creepy isn't he?**

**Bug349: thanks for following me to the new story and I promise this chapter is just as shudder worthy haha!**

**Black Lotus13: Thanks, I had such a hard time starting this one out! This chapter's beginning was just as difficult :\**

**Sheeijan: haha yeah he's got pretty great instincts for an infant! MiM needs to be taught some parenting skills or at least put someone else in charge if he's going to take this hands off approach. Hmmm, guess this next chapter might address this problem! Mwahaha!**

**Em: Here's the continuation! Enjoy!**

**Guest: Welcome back! And you will just have to see who I decide to whack this time! *maniacal laughter* **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians**

_Where we left off:_

_Tightening his grip on the teen's jaw, he placed his other hand over the boy's eyes, releasing a tiny bit of his newest experiment. Dream sand that cast the dreamer into a deep sleep, filled with nightmares. Wouldn't Sanderson be proud? _

_The boy grew lax in his grasp, eyes lolling as Pitch ran his fingers through the white hair. "Rest now," He cooed. "My little Jökul Frosti." _

Chapter 2: Mother to Us All

It didn't take long for someone to discover him. In the grand scheme of things, two weeks was miniscule, really, especially for a spirit so new and unknown. His discovery had been by chance, or by fate if one would like to call it that. If he hadn't been sniffling so much she probably would never have found him anyway. But sniffle he did, and when Mother Nature opened the shadow door to find a Frost Child strung up in the corner of the room with black iron chains and a bar brawl face she realized that it was for this one that the moon had been dimming.

He cringed when he saw her, her features so cleverly alike her father, and tried to break free once more to escape her. But most of the fight had already been beaten out of him so when she released his wrists and wrapped him in her cloak of winter's biting chill he only fought her a little.

"Hush, now, frost child." She brushed dirty white bangs out of his eyes. "It will all be made right."

In his feverish state he could only shiver and snuggle deeper into the cold.

"You're undoing all my progress," a voice called out from the shadows. Mother Nature pulled the sprite into her lap and wrapped the folds of the cloak tighter around him. She glared into the darkness.

"I see no progress here. I will be leaving now, Pitch, and he will come with me."

The voice scoffed. "I see no reason why he should go with you. You are not his master, daughter."

"He is a winter sprite, an embodiment of nature and I am mother to all of nature. That makes him my son." She unconsciously gripped the boy tighter. He whimpered.

"Then by turn I am his grandfather." The voice chuckled again.

"You are nothing of the sort," she scoffed.

A hand waved her off in the darkness as golden eyes shimmered brightly. "Genealogies mean nothing. He is mine, and I shall not be having my property stolen out from under my nose."

"Count your lucky stars I'm not taking him under your nose or you'd never have noticed."

Pitch frowned and left his hidden place in the shadows. Fury danced across his features, dissipating as quickly as it came.

"Watch your tongue, girl. You try my patience and I might just kill him for spite."

The boy whimpered.

"Hush, Jökul!" Pitch spat. The boy quieted.

"He's not some dog, father, he's a child!"

"Calling him an ice brat or a mutt doesn't change his worth. He has power and I will wield it one way or another. Don't roll your eyes and act as if you haven't felt it. Infant though he may be, he holds enough power to end the world without breaking a sweat. All he needs is someone willing to break him in order to unleash it."

"Enough!" Mother Nature cried. She stood and walked quickly from the cell, the boy still resting in her arms. He had entwined his fingers into her long, black hair. He weighed less than the cloak.

"Seraphina," Pitch called from behind her. "I'll be taking my boy back before you leave."

She spun around, eyes blazing. "You will not lay a hand on him!"

Pitch laughed. "Really, darling, who are you to stop me?"

"I am the wielder of the winds and the mistress of the seasons. Who are you to challenge my authority?"

"Pitch Black, the Nightmare King, at your service, milady." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Come now, love. Give me back my prey and I will let you visit him whenever you please. Try to take him and I will slit his throat and take one of your nymphs as a consolation prize."

Oh how Seraphina wished she could have killed him in that instant! But the moon had been clear on that night many years ago that fear must not be extinguished. It was necessary for the betterment of mankind, no matter how unpleasant the shell embodying it may be. So instead, she set the boy down, untangled his arms from her hair, and held him steady until he found his feet. Frost spread unchecked from his toes and she bit her lip in sorrow. All the while, he begged her quietly for help. Instead she walked him forward and allowed the ashen hands to grip his shoulders once more. She watched with little emotion as he kicked and screamed, ice climbing up his master's arms as he begged her to not leave him. Pitch merely squeezed tighter until he felt a collarbone snap and put the boy out of his misery with a dose of his nightmare sand. He held him for a few moments before throwing him to the ground and grinning at the sound of the boy's skull cracking against the stone stairs. Tears had dried tracks down his dirty cheeks.

Mother Nature ground her teeth in fury, pulsing with enough power to destroy the entire cavern and everyone in it should she loose her control. The Nightmare King, sensing his danger, slung the boy up over his shoulder and carried him back to his room. The boy's cape fell over his hair before Seraphina could get a good look at the gash the stone had left one the back of his head. Pitch set him down on a pile of straw in the corner and locked the door before rejoining his daughter in the main hall. The two minutes he was gone had been enough for her to regain control of her power.

She met him with eyes as dull as stone. "If you ever abuse him in my presence again, I will blind you with light so intense it will burn your eyes out of their sockets, cut out your tongue, and cause you to forever wander the earth blind and dumb with only the screams of others fear too far away for you to feel to keep you company."

Pitch paled. "Duly noted."

"Good. I will return soon, and I fully expect him to be cohesive and without injury by that time."

"I promise you a living, breathing ice boy next time you visit. Play your next tricks on him, I'm far too old to fall for them."

"Careful, Pitch," Seraphina spat, "The day will come when the Moon's Commander will lift the ban on your head, and you had better hope I am in a forgiving mood in those moments."

"Leave me!" Pitch spat.

Mother nature left the cavern without another word, her heart heavy with guilt as unuttered comforts still burdened her tongue. She breathed deeply when the air became fresh and snow crunched under her slippers. She walked until she reached the pond that still held moonbeams two weeks old beneath the ice's glassy surface.

"Oh, Tzar Lunar," She whispered. "I wish I could say your time of mourning has ended, but the cause for your sorrow still rests in the enemy's hands."

A voice filled her mind. _Oh, Seraphina. Do not despair, for my frost child has a protector now. And that is more than I could ever have given him. _

Mother Nature sat dumbly for a moment before speaking again. "I cannot release him from his bondage. I cannot save him."

_But you can guide him. Be a light in the darkness, Child. A heart of light such as his needs a kindred spirit to overcome the darkness. In time all will be made well, I have a family in mind for the boy. _

"How will he come to be a part of it? At this very moment he suffers at the hands of a captor that will never let him go!"

_His current situation will not affect the outcome if he has the strength to overcome his battle scars. Our snowflake is stronger than he looks, Seraphina. A heart of gold beats inside of him, and it will not be easily broken. Watch over him, dearheart, light his way. Be his guardian until he himself takes his watch over others. _

Mother Nature nodded solemnly. "All this and more I swear to you and the High One I will be. And I look towards the day of his deliverance with a heart of gladness."

**Yay! He's not so alone anymore! But Mother Nature won't always be there to save him…FORESHADOWING! WAH! Anyways, do your thing while I conjure up another chapter! I look forward to hearing your opinions and suggestions!**


	3. Chapter 3: Drinks or Business?

**A/N: Oh gosh I just couldn't help myself! Here's another chapter! I know its early and believe me don't get used to nightly chapters I'm far too busy for that, but at any rate, here it is!**

**Shout outs to (because you're all awesome and this story has gotten so many reviews):**

**Bug349: aww u made me blush! Here's another chapter as a reward!**

**Black Lotus13: lol she gets better! Mamas gonna keep her baybay safe!**

**Jesusfreak200: I love your name! I can't wait to hear what you think of this next chapter, I'm a bit addicted to fanfics as well! Oh wait, I guess another chapter so soon could just be feeding the addition...hmmm. **

**Sheeijan: MiM's what we would call a hands off parent. Mother Nature is a little more into getting her hands dirty lol! **

**Dragongirl2001: thanks!**

**Growlinghowlers: normally I do too but I just couldn't resist with her. She's book canon so I don't know if she counts as an OC tho…. Morrígan from my story Immortal definitely is tho. I wonder what you would think of her?**

**Guest: Hope this chapter is just as awesome! Jack's a bit of a spitfire. That mouth of his is going to get him into trouble!**

**Guest: I haven't decided my time frame yet…..**

**DISCLAIMER I OWN NOTHINGGGG! Except the story line. **

Chapter 3: Drinks or Business?

Mother Nature could not bring herself to visit the frost child for three full cycles of the seasons. She claimed the elements were far too unruly to be left for any amount of time to their own devices. The wind had become quite a problem, blowing too harshly and with far too much ice and sleet since the disappearance of its frost child friend. The wind's emotional reaction was of little surprise, but the duration of the episodes revealed a memory of the boy with the big blue eyes that far superseded all of the other wind's riders. Wind was a fickle creature, and memory was not its strong point. But for some strange reason, the frost child had not been wiped out with a few turns around the world.

Eventually it settled for wailing mournfully in any place where winter had been allowed to settle and with that problem effectively reigned in, Seraphina traveled once again to the lake. It was winter again and the air was chilled and beautiful. The trees had all grown taller, their voices as they bade her a greeting a little deeper and more distinguished with age. But the hole in the ground covered by a gnarled little cot hadn't changed in the least.

She disappeared into it without a second's hesitation and landed with all the grace endued to nature itself in the bowels of hell. The interior of the cavern had changed about as much as the exterior. Dark and dank it was the breeding ground for any number of undesirables; Pitch being one of them.

Her solitude didn't last for long.

Pitch appeared from the shadow at her side. "Ah, welcome back, Darling. You really should pop in more often; your presence brightens up the place. Care to join me in the foyer for some drinks or would you like to just jump right into discussing the reason for your visit?"

Mother Nature rolled her eyes. "Do I really look like I'm in the mood for a drink, father?"

"Right to business then, my dear." He smiled and took her by the crook of the arm. "What is the purpose of your visit?"

She huffed. "I don't have time for your frivolities, I'm quite busy. Just show me the frost child."

"Who? Oh! Yes, my Jökul."

"I couldn't care less what you've named him, let me see him!"

Pitch pulled away from her side and adopted an injured façade. "You don't have to be cross with me. He's in the study."

Mother Nature nodded and started off at a brisk walk toward the left wing of the cavern. She had been in it often enough as the supervisor the Man in the Moon appointed over Pitch. She threw open the double doors without warning and scanned the room with her sapphire eyes. A tuft of white hair drew her gaze toward the center of the room quite close to the fire. The boy was sitting on the rug, yanking absently on the chain around his ankle that was tethered to the side table. A book sat upturned next to the lamp.

Mother Nature whirled around to meet her father's smirk. There was fire in her eyes.

"What on earth is this winter sprite doing so close to an open flame?" She screeched.

"Well I assure you he is quite comfortable I haven't thrown him _in _the fireplace. I was reading when you so rudely interrupted my evening and I brought him in to keep me company." As he spoke, Pitch walked into the room and sat in his armchair, motioning his daughter to the seat across from him. The frost child watched her entrance with wide eyes as frost began to spread from his fingers and toes. Pitch's hand on his head pulled him back to reality.

The boy growled and wrenched away, yanking on the chain with fervor. "Let me go!" He yelled as frost began to curl around the links of iron. He kicked out violently at the chair, splintering the wooden leg and jostling his master. Pitch grabbed him by the chin, putting a stop to his tantrum.

"I don't release little boys who can't behave themselves, Jökul, you know that. If you didn't keep trying to leave your home I wouldn't have to resort to the chains."

"This is not my home," The boy spat through clenched teeth. His jaw was starting to ache from Pitch's grasp. The sound of a throat clearing pulled them both back from the brink of violence. Pitch smiled condescendingly and released the boy's jaw, patting him on the head.

"Jökul, if you could find it within yourself to act civilized then I wouldn't have to chain you like a dumb animal. Now, if you would like the chance to visit with my Seraphina cordially then I might suggest growing up a bit. Could you do that, Jökul? Hmm? I think it's a fair trade off."

"Yes," the boy murmured.

"What was that, Jökul? I couldn't quite catch that."

"I said yes!"

Pitch drew his hand back to put the pup back in his place when he remembered the threat Mother Nature gave at her last visit and decided a reprimand would be a much safer venue for correction. After a few hushed words and veiled threats for punishment to come Pitch unlocked the shackle.

Seraphina gasped when the boy stood. His clothes nearly fell off him. All the fight seemed to have left him the moment the shackle was unlocked and he stared at his feet, which were currently laying a lovely frost on the rug.

"Child," Mother Nature called. She motioned him forward and with the help of a little shove from Pitch he stumbled forward to stand before her. "I won't hurt you," she said and tried with all that was within her to depress the part of her that was so in tune with her father's pride and harshness. She needed this boy to see her mother's love not her nature's fury.

She touched him gently on the arm, her own sufficient frost abilities sending a chill across his body. He shuddered and leaned into her touch, allowing her to guide him to set on her lap. He leaned into her shoulder, burying his face in her cloak. All his fight was gone, a child remained. A very sleepy child if the circles under his eyes were any indication of his need for rest. But again that could be the malnourishment as well. Mother Nature slipped her hand under his tunic and felt along his side. She could count every rib; feel every part of his hipbones. She frowned and frosted him again when he started to get squirmy; he settled down with a contented sigh.

"He is malnourished," She spat, fire eyes landing on her father who was watching her with interest.

"So he is." Pitch shrugged. "What of it, he had to be punished for trying to escape or he would try it again."

"Oh, so because he was trying to escape pain you decide to not feed him? How long has it been?"

Pitch shrugged again. "He tried it a few times before I resorted to this. Beating him didn't keep him from trying it again; he's far too stubborn for that. Obviously you can't reason with the little fool, and he's of no use to me—well not that much use anyway—if he's always unconscious. So this is punishment six, or rather it was punishment six as I can imagine you and your righteous indignation will put a stop to it immediately. He's been about six months without food and I give him some water every other day. Apparently escaping takes too much effort when he's like this because he hasn't tried again."

"You're right about one thing, I am putting a stop to it."

"I am right about a good deal of things, daughter."

"Oh, shut up I'm in no mood to indulge you today. You will feed him immediately and continue to do so at least twice daily."

"I'll feed and water him whenever I please but you have my word that it will be done. Sufficient enough for you?"

Mother Nature thought for a moment, fingers running through the boy's hair, before she nodded curtly. That would be the best she could honestly get from him anyway. "Just so long as he is not so thin by my next visit I'll accept that." At Pitch's nod she set the boy on his feet and rose. "Good. I will leave after he is put to bed."

"Gladly," Pitch replied and stood himself. "Jökul, come."

The boy's eyes grew wide and he clutched at Mother Nature's skirts. Frost spiraled up from his grasp.

"I have no time for your stupidity, boy. Come now, Seraphina says its time for you to sleep."

Jökul shook his head again and clenched his eyes shut at the sight of the sand swirling around his master's hand. It reached for him and he used the regal fabric to cover his face. Mother Nature's hair fell around him like a curtain. She put an arm around him.

"That's enough, Pitch," She whispered quietly. "He doesn't want your nightmares. I will put him to bed."

"But—"

Sapphire eyes burned into his and Pitch was left at a loss for words.

Mother nature nodded and led the boy from the study to his room. In their wake she could hear Pitch's grumblings about her usurp of power. If she allowed the boy to disobey him it would be sufficient evidence for their separation. Mother Nature understood this, so when the boy peeked out from his hiding, saw how close they were to the entrance, and tried to run, she held him tightly to her side with a stern word and a whispered apology. If she helped him escape, Pitch would kill him.

Only when they had reached the boy's room did Mother Nature speak her mind. "I know how badly you want to be free, my child," she said as she tucked the hay around him. "But freedom comes with a price and it would be your life. I will find a way to free you peacefully, that I swear to you. But until that time, you must not try to leave, for that can only bring pain."

He watched her without speaking but she could see his mind working behind that crystalline gaze. He was a clever boy to be sure.

"Can you understand that, child? Can you promise me you won't give him greater cause to hurt you?"

"I understand."

Mother Nature sighed. "But you won't promise, is that right?"

The white head bobbed.

"I can't always be there to save you, child."

"Please call me Jack."

"You cannot be so brash—" Mother Nature paused her speech. "Jack?"

"I don't want to be Jökul. I want to be Jack Frost."

"Did you think that name up, child?"

"No, the moon told me so."

"The moon?" Mother Nature blinked. Then she smiled. "Of course, Jack. Whenever we are alone I will use your moon name. He sent me here to you for that very purpose."

"What?" Jack sat up but lay back down on his bed when the woman shushed him.

"The moon sent me to care for you while you are here, Jack. I am your protector, your guardian. I will do all in my power to help you, but in turn you must listen to my advice. I have lived so very many years and you have lived so few. I am wise and wisdom will keep you safe." She smiled again. "So listen closely and do not provoke him, for I will always come back for you, my frost child."

Jack smiled lightly and Mother Nature mirrored it in her own way. Her smile lacked his innocence. She pulled a small pouch from her belt and took out a pinch of its contents. Jack reared back at the sight of the sand.

"It's alright, Jack," Mother Nature said with a smile. "This was a gift from the sandman, the spirit of dreams and sleep. No nightmares can come when you sleep with this. Can I share it with you?"

Jack weighed his options carefully. She wasn't going to force the sand on him like Pitch; a good sign in and of itself. And instinct was not screaming danger at the sight of it. So he nodded lightly and allowed her to dust his eyes with it. The effect was immediate, but it wasn't unpleasant. Pitch's dark sand stung his eyes horribly and jerked him painfully from consciousness into a nightly horror show. This sand felt warm and sleepy-sweet. His dreams were filled with rides on the back of the wind and laughing with children that could see and touch him back.

Mother Nature left him when the dreams dancing around his head didn't turn black with fear. Her boy was finally sleeping.

Hours later, Pitch paid his Jökul a visit. Sweet dreams still danced above his head and a smile played with the corners of his mouth. Pitch considered waking him, but when the dream turned from flying on the wind to riding a horse in the forest he paused. The horse and his boy were quite happy, prancing and rearing playfully. With a single touch of his finger, Pitch altered the dream and sent the rider flying. Jökul grimaced in his sleep. As for the horse, Pitch took it from dreamland and put it in his pocket. A dream creation like that had great potential.

**Comments? Questions? Random crap that will make me laugh? Put it in the box below and I'll get cracking on chapter 4! *cracks knuckles over keyboard* **

**Till next time!**


	4. Chapter 4: Black Sand and Broken Things

**A/N: hey guys sorry for the lateness of the update, I just couldn't get into this one and I had a really busy week! And I had foot surgery…**

**Shoutouts to: **

**Black Lotus13: Pitch scoffed at you and your punishment and had a nice glass of wine to reminisce on his past torturous deeds. I do apologize on his behalf.**

**Guest: yay! We're almost at awesomesauce levels! **

**Waterlemonade241: I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! Jack does appear relatively young in my mind too, not physically but mentally. Then again, he is only seven or eight mentally at this point!**

**Sheeijan: I loved the concept of the wind's faithfulness too! It might become more important as time goes on. **

**Bug349: AND THE FIRST NIGHTMARE HORSE WAS BORN! MWAHAHA!**

**Doubled-Helix: Ah! I'm so honored that my story was your first! Enjoy chapter 4!**

**REZZKAT!: AHHHHH! Hun I was like gonna go spam your wall or something cuz u didn't see this! No jk but I was wondering when you were going to jump on! You answered all your questions on your own so…I'LL SEE YA NEXT CHAPTAH GIRLIE!**

**Peaceful Dragon Rose: Thanks!**

**SerenadeInTheMoonlight: Here's chapter 4, hope it lives up to expectations! Pitch certainly takes things to a new level!**

**DanielleDaughterOfDeathanMagic: Well I did crack them in the space above the keyboard but then I cracked them on it so….BOTH! **

**I DON'T OWN ROTG! *sigh* **

Chapter 4: Black Sand and Broken Things

Mother Nature visited her frost child as often as she could. Sometimes she caught a few moments after a span of two months. Sometimes it was years between visits. He hardly seemed to change from trip to trip, a little more worn but still just as obstinate as the day he splintered Pitch's armchair leg. His clothes on the other hand, did not retain his immortality. She brought him new things when his own were in tatters, snatching tunics and trousers from tree branches when in summer the boys would go down to the lake on a whim and swim. The rarely fit him but the boy didn't care. He was thrilled to be given a gift that had been touched by another who was not Pitch.

He always looked so forlorn when she left him. Like she was ripping away a part of him every time she stepped back out of that cavern and left him there to rot. Mother Nature knew that that was exactly what she was doing. She knew what Pitch did to him every time she left. She saw the evidence of his abuse every time she returned. Sometimes it was just a bruise on the side of his head, or a shaking in his limbs that hinted at heat exhaustion. Sometimes he looked better, but as time went on and desperation began to set in, she saw his injuries begin to multiply.

When he reached his fiftieth year, Mother Nature realized that he would not last much longer if she could not be there to guide him in his times of greater need. As the Overseer to all the world's physical progressions she simply could not be there for him every time Pitch beat him for transgressions he didn't understand. So she did what any good mother would do: she left him with stories for when she was gone.

She told him she had sent a little icicle nymph to watch over him in her absence. Told him that this little girl knew how to watch out for the shadows and knew how to hide from Pitch's creatures of the night. Assured him that even though she couldn't come out to help him, she would report back to Mother and Mother would see to it that Jack would be all right. All he had to do was keep an eye out for his little nymph, watch closely because she would leave little hints of her presence just for him. And those presents would be assurances that Mother would return soon to see him.

And return she did. No matter how many years spanned between visits, she never forgot about him. The wind wouldn't have allowed her to anyways.

Jack, for his part never stopped leaving presents for his nymph and seeking them in return. He caught flashes of her laughter, which sounded like the tinkling of icicles bumping together and her sighs which reminded him of the sound snow makes when a boot crunches it all down. She was his hope. His yearning for a life past his prison. She was what he thought about when Mother Nature left and didn't return for five years. And when Pitch hit him so hard in the head he couldn't move well for days, he saw her peek around the corner of the hall he lay in and give him a smile.

It was her hope that helped him get through every time Mother Nature left him to return to the surface. Her hope that kept the spark alive in him that maybe, just maybe she would take him with her next time. He just had to hold out until next time. And when next time never came, it was her hope that gave him the courage to try and escape once more.

He didn't make it very far. Not very far at all.

Mother Nature found him a few days after his final flight, lying on the stone floor of his room. Never before had she seen him so still, so lifeless. Blood had dried on the ground, caking heavily in the grout between the stones. Both of his hands lay limply over each other, flayed open at the palms where he had gripped the staff. His mouth and nose were smeared thickly with wet, black sand and greying ooze. His feet had been pegged together with an iron stake that had been driven through his heels. The wounds dribbled blood and black sand.

She had thought she had reached the pinnacle of anger and desire to remove him from this place long ago. Thought there was nothing that could make her pick him up and carry him to freedom with no regard for anyone's safety. But she was wrong, and it was the look in his empty, empty blue eyes that broke her.

She wanted to scream and rage at the monster that did this. Wanted to sweep this child up and carry him home. But she could do nothing but sit and stare at him as her heart broke. He didn't reach out to her. Didn't call her by name and beg her with those big blue eyes to give him a moment's reprieve and tell him a story. He just lay there and bled. He had given every last ounce of hope he had left to drive him forward to freedom. And he lost. His icicle nymph had melted and her wintry kiss on the tip of his nose didn't bring reprieve; it stung.

When Mother Nature finally found her voice again she babbled on for almost an hour as she worked, demeaning herself to kneel beside him and rip her dress to wrap his wounds. He screamed once when she pulled out the peg. Hoarse and heart wrenching, it didn't even sound human.

Mother Nature whispered on to placate him. "Hush now, Jack. I'll make it better. I swear it."

But after the anguish passed from his eyes they returned to their dull, grey stare. After a time, there was nothing more she could do for him so she settled for maneuvering him gently into her arms and holding him until he passed out. That was how Pitch found them hours later.

Of all the questions Mother Nature could have asked him, "why" seemed to be the only one that even came close to conveying her emotions.

The nightmare king just smiled. "For many reasons," he replied. "I warned him not to run again and he ran. I sensed the hope he felt so I squashed it. I told you half a century ago that I would break him to release his power, so I did it."

Mother Nature's retort wasn't without its own bite though her tone remained even so as to not disturb the slumbering spirit in her arms. "He may never walk again. In your mad desire for another's power you have locked it away forever. He has shut down and there will be no opening him back up. The power is gone, Pitch. You destroyed it."

"The power is still in him, along with enough of my own to control whatever resistance remains. I broke him and now I will mold him into what I want him to be. His legs are of little concern to me, the bones broke cleanly and I didn't snap any tendons. They will heal up fine. If you have no other concerns, I would be pleased if you left. Your visitation services are no longer necessary nor requested."

Mother Nature glanced at the boy in her arms. "He will be the judge of that when he awakens," she murmured quietly

"As I said. He stopped crying for you days ago. You are unwanted."

Mother Nature caught him in a feral stare and Pitch sighed.

"As you wish."

Pitch let them be. Mother Nature sat with her sprite for hours until he woke, running her reed-like fingers through his white hair and trying to wrap his wounds tight enough to keep the blood inside him. She smeared the injuries with poultice and tried to wipe the blackness from his mouth that had stained his lips and teeth grey. It wouldn't budge.

He woke without warning and without a sound. She smiled at him kindly when his eyes opened, but there was no recollection in his gaze. He saw a stranger but didn't try to untangle himself from her arms.

"I am so sorry, Jack," she whispered. "I should have been here."

His eyes roamed lethargically around the room.

"Jack?" There was no response. "Jack can you hear me?" Mother Nature shifted him so he could easily meet her gaze. A low, thready whine was her only response. "Jack," she tried. No reaction. "Jökul."

The boy's grey eyes snapped up to meet hers.

Mother Nature's throat clenched as tears wet tracks down her ivory cheeks. Her Jack was gone.

He blinked at her twice before letting his eyes have their way across the room. She allowed sobs to shake her for only a few moments before composure set in. Dropping a kiss on his brow, she set him down on the floor—his straw pile long since removed—and left the room. She found Pitch in the study.

"He doesn't know me anymore," She stated.

Pitch looked up from his book and nodded once. "No, he doesn't. It's better that way—"

"This doesn't mean I won't come to see him." Mother Nature cut in.

Pitch merely nodded again. "I hardly thought a lack of recognition would be enough to get you to leave. I've done far worse over the years yet you still find your way back every so often."

"He isn't yours to keep, Father."

"That is irrelevant. Whether he is mine to keep or not does not change the fact that he is mine now. I won't need him forever, but for now things are finally going my way." Pitch stood slowly and purposefully, locking his yellow eyes on her ebony gaze.

"The surface needs me. I must go back to it soon."

"Then return to it, I have no interest in stopping you so long as you return alone."

Mother Nature looked as though she wished to respond, but fell silent instead. It took her quite some time to gather her thoughts, and when she spoke again it was with a child's voice. "He is broken, Pitch. You will have no cause to beat him any longer, his obstinacy is gone."

"His mental status changes nothing in regards to my actions. I will deal with him as I please." He snapped. "You aren't his mother and you aren't mine. Go give your orders elsewhere."

Seraphina turned and left without another word. She knew they would only bounce off the cavern walls and come back to her. No one here would listen.

The moon shone down brightly on her as she stepped out of the ground. Moonbeams carried quiet questions on their wings.

_How is he, Seraphina? _

"Our Jack is gone," she said to the sky. "Only Jökul remains now."

**Erg. I'm not totally satisfied with this chapter but oh well :( **

**REVIEW MY LOVELIES AND I'LL GET WORKING ON CHAPTER 5!**


	5. Chapter 5: Phoenix

**A/N: I am so sorry I didn't post for two weeks :(((( I didn't mean it, really, but I had horrible writers block and really bad foot pain from my surgery (which got infected) so I really wasn't in the mood for writing. But my foot is on the mend and I can't wait to start writing chapter six! So fingers crossed for a week or less until next chapter! Btw, wow with the reviews and views. Like wow. 14 reviews just for chapter 4! **

**SHOUTOUTS TO ALL YOU BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!**

**Bug349: It made me sad too :( but get used to that, the next couple of chapters will be exceedingly sad**

**Taranodogirl1: I know! That was my reaction exactly when I wrote that. I almost didn't put it in because I thought it was a little too heavy for this fandom**

**Michaela95: Thanks! I promise the end will be happy! **

**Rezzkat: breathe. In and out, in and out. You'll be fine, I promise death is a lot worse than this. Oh and I mostly promise he won't die in this fic too. At least physically *grins maniacally* **

**Jokermask18: thanks so much! I think I carried the emotion from last chapter into this one pretty well!**

**Moonshroom420: Wow! A review for every chapter! Props to you my friend and here's another chapter (a longer one than last time) to reward you for rewarding me!**

**Guest: Jökul is a major work in progress, you will probably see a slippery slope effect with him. As you will see in this chapter, his transformation is not all at once and the full fledged Jökul will take a few more updates to properly mature!**

**Peaceful Dragon Rose: Thanks so much!**

**Pandy334: because he's a sadistic jerk face! But he'll get whats coming to him, that much I can promise you!**

**Sheeijan: Yeah they haven't really been the best caretakers have they? Believe me, Seraphina gets a whooole lot worse in this chapter (and I totally didn't plan that). **

**A Stripped Tigger: Oh gosh for a moment I thought you were calling me a monster! Whew! It was just Pitch lol. Thank you so much for all the wonderful praise and I hope I can make you cry a few more times before this story is up! Whoops that came out wrong…**

**8fangirl8: I love the icing too! Jack's all about the icing lol**

**Doubled-Helix: Poor Jack! I felt so bad to do that! But it was necessary for the storyline, so it had to be done! Sob! It was really sad tho. :(**

**I.F.T.S: Squeal! Oh my gosh I love your stories and I can't believe you're reading mine! Thank you so much for all the praise and thanks again for the beta! You're the best! **

**And now without further ado, grab your tissue boxes and stuffed animals because I do not own Game of Thrones. **

Chapter 5: The Phoenix

Broken as he was, Jökul's physical recovery was relatively short. The gashes in his palms mended with time, leaving only thin, white scars as a reminder. At Pitch's command, the sand plastered to his mouth receded, allowing only his lips to retain their greyish tint. His feet took the longest to heal. They did not receive any medical attention and the bones mended crookedly. He walked on the balls of his feet for a full six months after he gained mobility because of the pain until Pitch put a stop to it. As destroyed as the boy was by that point, he didn't even fight back when Pitch re-broke and set the bones so he would be able to walk properly. Even so, they had to be wrapped for stability for many years after.

Mother Nature visited sparingly. Just often enough to be sure the sprite was still alive. He expressed only vague interest in her appearances, much more content to simply follow a few steps behind Pitch whenever he was in the lair. It wasn't that he loved his captor; in reality it was quite the contrary. Deep down, Jökul was very confused about his situation, but it took far too much effort to decide why. It was much easier to follow and obey. And much safer.

He never spoke, no matter who was addressing him. After a time, Mother Nature began to doubt that he even remembered how. She tried speaking to him to fill the silence during a few of her early visits. He would just look up at her with grey eyes and press his ashen lips together. Eventually she stopped trying.

She continued to clothe him for many years and fed him whenever she would stop by so he could begin to trust her. The problem was it wasn't his lack of trust she had to worry about. He trusted Pitch about as much as he trusted her and that was what haunted her far longer than his stormy gaze. He held no concept of choice; he treated everyone he met like they were a master.

After seventy-five years of little to no change, Mother Nature began to find every excuse to stop coming. She knew Pitch had begun to train the child-spirit; the evidence of his lessons manifested themselves in bruises and welts all over his body. He had never regained his wintry abilities and the lack of their manifestation was the usual cause for any number of punishments dealt by the Nightmare King. Even so, his training in hand to hand combat was anything but optional. Powers or not, Pitch was not going to waste his investment.

After a stretch of ten years with no visits, Mother Nature shamed herself into regular check-ins. After finding hoof shaped bruises on his chest and a wheezing in his breath she resolved to increase their frequency. It was during one of those more frequent visits that she witnessed a training session.

Jökul was placed in a deep ditch in the bowels of the cavern, overhangs creating more than enough shadows to hide the less than benevolent creatures of the night. He circled the makeshift arena a few times, poking into the shadows with a gnarled stick Pitch allowed him to use to defend himself. By its shape, Mother Nature knew it was not his staff. He looked very frightened even from their perch, thrusting the stick into the darkness and tensing at even she smallest of noises (most of which Pitch was responsible for).

Mother Nature tried to cry out and warn the boy when he did not notice the writhing of a shadow just a few feet behind him, but Pitch would have none of it. She was forced to watch the rest of the fight with his ashen hand clapped tightly across her mouth. If it were not for her fear for the boy, she would have fought back a little harder against her imprisonment.

She watched in silence as a massive creature emerged from a shadow behind the sprite, stalking the boy as he prodded the hiding places of the others. It's shape looked vaguely like a horse, a little too ethereal and wispy to properly identify its form. It followed a few feet behind until impatience got the better of the beast and it snorted. The boy spun to meet it, swinging his stick like a sword as other beasts emerged and forced him towards the center of the arena. No frost came to curl around the stick in his hands. There was no magic in it or its wielder. The shadows grew, expanding the hiding places for the assailants as their victim slowly lost hope. There were too many to fight off this time.

Jökul swung his stick around and took out as many of the creatures' legs that he could reach. It was a last ditch effort, really, but there was something in him that wouldn't allow him to just curl up and hope they didn't hit anything vital. So he swung all the harder and crippled any that dared to come close enough to cripple him. They whinnied in protest—the sound more akin to screeches than the noise of Shetland ponies—and one rushed him from behind. It bit him hard on the shoulder, his cry of pain enough to rile the rest into a frenzied attack. Biting, kicking, and trampling, they tortured him to feed off his potent fear.

Mother Nature wrenched herself away from Pitch and flew towards the lip of the arena. A strong hand wrenched her back from the edge.

"Let me go!" She cried, hair sparking with electric charge. The air around them crackled with feral energy. "If you do not help him he will die!"

"And what do I stand to loose if that happens?" The Nightmare King drawled. Realization dawned on the Mother of the Elements.

"This isn't training for him," she murmured. "This is training for them! He's just the punching bag!"

"Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner. The boy is useless to me without his ice. The least he can do is make himself useful training pets that can actually meet my lowest expectations."

Mother Nature cringed at the sound of a snap and a barely human cry from down in the pit. She couldn't tell if the sound had been his arm or his stick.

"Pitch, please! You only wanted him for his power, its gone now! Let me take him with me."

Pitch scoffed to the tandem of the sound of more cries and scuffles. His crooked jaw was already unhinged to reply when the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees and a crackling from in the pit preceded a flash of blue that silenced even the most dangerous of nightmare shrieks.

Mouth still hanging open, Pitch let go of his daughter and bounded over to the side of the pit. Curled up in the center of a frozen cage of black sand legs and manes lay Jökul, his eyes still clenched shut and his clothes frosted over. The boy had no idea what had happened, but all the noise and the hurt had stopped and it was _blessedly _cold.

Mother Nature floated down into the pit, ignoring her father's cackling as she glared into the shadows, daring them to try and throw anything at her. They shrunk back and cowered the moment her slippers touched the dirt. She felt no pity for those creatures of the night. For those shadows that preyed on the innocent and destroyed childhoods that had only just begun. They chose their side and she chose hers, the freedom to decide had been given to them all. Some just chose wrong.

Mother Nature shook her head to clear it of hundreds of years of memories and knelt on the dirt to lure the restored winter spirit out of his prison. When it became clear he either couldn't climb out or wouldn't, she grabbed a piece of the splintered stick and used it to break the shins of a few of the ice statues and pulled him out amongst the shards. The moment she touched him ice shot up her arms, so cold it caused the mistress of all the winter winds to shiver.

She half expected him to look up at her with eyes as blue as ocean ice, but even though his power had returned his mind had not. Eyes still grey; they only held pain from his injuries and fear. She melted the ice from her arms and began to take inventory of his injuries. He was bleeding from several places, but the ice crept up to cap off the blood flow as it caked heavily over the broken bones to keep them straight. He seemed to just let the ice do its work, lying still until even the bruises had a soothing sheen of ice to bring down the swelling. His body was healing itself.

Still cackling, Pitch emerged from a nearby shadow and ran his fingers along a frozen mane. "Well, Seraphina, I think I will have to decline your offer, he's still quite useful. But honestly I wouldn't have let him go even if he was worthless."

Mother Nature caught him in a stare, her jade eyes boring into his yellow ones.

Pitch chuckled again and nudged the sprite with his foot. Ice shot up his leg and he shivered unconfortably. "Did you really think I only wanted him when he was powerful? No, child, I wanted him when he was weak. I wanted and still want to destroy him all over again because he is mine! Just because his strength was useless doesn't mean I didn't feed off his misery and weakness, no, this boy was an eternal meal. And now, he is my means to victory."

"_A_ victory," Mother Nature retorted and tried to help the boy stand. "If that, Pitch. He might help you win a battle but you could never win the war." With her initial help, Jökul stood without support, eyes catatonic and ice creeping from his feet.

"Oh, Seraphina you think far too highly of yourself and your so called chosen side. But your allies are weak and your link to them is tentative at the most. Face it, you're not a child of light and deluding yourself into believing otherwise is sad at its best and dangerous at its worst."

"No, I wasn't born into that kingdom, but no one is. All choose to enter and I have entered, father. You know that!"

"Then it's a good thing you're my daughter or I would include you in the slaughter."

"Oh believe me it won't be us that go to the slaughter."

Pitch's eyes narrowed dangerously, but he knew better than to cross his offspring when he was not at his peak. So he took his revenge for her insubordination in a less obvious manner. With a snap of his fingers, Jökul limped over to his side, leaving her without so much as a glance. Pitch squeezed the boy's shoulder and smiled as he watched the hatred grow in her eyes. But his revenge was short lived; he had to remove his hand within seconds because of the ice that crackled across his palm. He watched with wide eyes as frost grew and receded with the sprite's every breath. It crept across the floor to incase the nightmares more securely then spread to freeze anything in its path. Grey eyes grew cloudy as the boy himself began to freeze and the air chilled far past the place of comfort. Pitch began to feel unease as an unearthly wind broke into the cavern, carrying shards of ice on its wings. The nightmares shattered, spewing black sand and ice in every direction.

Mother Nature was the first to move, striding through the blinding sleet and hail to meet the boy where he stood. She gripped him by the shoulders and tried to break him free of the trance he had fallen into by the power that threatened to consume him. Ice spread from wherever she made contact with his skin and she grew desperate when his milky eyes only continued to stare forward into nothingness as the storm grew in strength. Even her authority could not corral this rogue power.

Suddenly she was knocked aside and ashen hands and a black robe took her place at the boy's head. Pitch knew enough not to touch the boy—his stinging hand a stark reminder of what this powerful being was truly capable of. No orders could be heard over the tempest, and Pitch knew the milky eyed spirit before him would not be able to hear them even if the storm raging above was not trying to rip apart his cave at the seams. So he chose a much more internal route.

The creature before him—a wintry phoenix in his own right—may no longer be under Pitch's control, but the sand he had forced down the boy's throat so many years ago was. Gripping ahold of its remaining power, Pitch expanded his corruption, rolling the sand through the body and feeling for a way to turn off the deluge without drying up the river. The sand explored the deeper regions of his mind, no longer searching for opposition but placing barriers to block this release of power until he wanted it unleashed. He burned synapses and built up new ones, creating links between memories until he had tailor made a control switch the devil himself could not have fashioned better.

The initial result was only a froth that bubbled out past the boy's clenched teeth as he convulsed on the ground and the storm lost its driving force. But the final product was a clear eyed, barely conscious youth lying in the midst of his own destructive force while the power that had been corralled strained against its leashes and gates.

Mother Nature dared not touch him for fear that she would unleash the ice age once again. The boy was a force of nature, but he was one that she could not control, and this frightened her.

Pitch's shoulders seemed to slump a bit from his exertion, but his smile as he picked bits of ice and snow from his hair betrayed his satisfaction. He glanced at Mother Nature and chuckled.

"What's the matter, Seraphina? Did he not listen when you told him to calm down? Did he not smile and clutch at your skirts for comfort? No? Well then I guess you're quite useless aren't you?"

Nature couldn't find it within herself to respond to his jibes. He was right, and the boy lying on the ground at their feet deserved better than her.

"You see, Seraphina," The Nightmare King continued, "He no longer feels for you. He doesn't even have the capability to feel. He craves a master's touch; he's an animal, nothing more. His humanity took a vacation fifty years ago and never came back, Seraphina, you know that." Pitch paused and knelt to run his bony fingers through Jökul's hair. The boy leaned into the touch briefly and became still as the nightmare sand his master had released found its way into his eyes. Pitch looked up at her before standing to match her height. "He is a force of nature. But not one of yours. Nothing goes together better than cold and dark and when I have my wielder of the ice age at my side and an army of nightmares at my back—and believe me I will have both—then I suggest you find some cave to crawl into because the phoenix herself couldn't match this boy for power if the sun infused her with its full power. Ice will cover the world and dark shall rule it. You cannot even hope for the smallest of victories."

Desperation wound its icy fingers around Mother Nature's heart. She knew how this would end, had seen it in visions hundreds of years ago, and it was not the ending Pitch was hoping for. But doubt has its way of twisting even the most comforting of sound evidence into ethereal nonsense and disillusionments. She was scared.

She was scared and no matter how much she wanted to wipe the smug grin of victory from her father's mouth, she knew she didn't have the strength to do so. Not on her own, and not with her own power. So she left her ice boy one last time. Left him in hell because she didn't think she was strong enough to save him and somewhere in the back of her mind she didn't think the moon or its Commander were strong enough to do so either. If they were then Jack would have been freed far before he became Jökul.

This angered her so that she said her goodbyes to the residents of the kingdom of light, gave them proper warnings on what Pitch and his Ice Prince were capable of, and went about her business, alone and unaided. She was done being a soldier of light in a world of increasing darkness, and she was done being a mother to shadow children who would only break her heart when they died.

She remained bitter for well over a century, living up to her image as the destroyer of civilizations. She controlled the powers of Nature with grace and fury, pounding the land with its necessary storms to keep it pruned and in tune, never trying to calm the calamities for the sake of mankind. They would need to be tough to endure a world of cold and dark should her father have his way.

But her eyes and ears were always open and searching for signs that Armageddon was close at hand. And when the sounds of screeching nightmares filled the air, she wept in mourning. For the day of their reckoning had come.

**I'm sorry! This story has kinda taken on a mind of its own and its very angsty. But I promise there's a purpose behind all of this and if you look hard enough by the end you will see the meaning threading all the way through. SOUND OFF BELOW I LOVE HEARING WHAT YOU THINK! Till next time kiddies!**


	6. Chapter 6: Parley

**A/N: I have decided to post once a week on Tuesday nights. You can consistently count on that day because as long as I'm in an Internet connectable area it will be posted!**

**Again you guys blow me away with all your support! Wow! Shoutouts to all you beautiful people!**

**Taranodongirl1: Bear with me its coming!**

**Jokermask18: Here they are! *see chapter below* **

**Moonshoom420: the end of your review was actually poetic! I'm honored that I would receive a poetic review, I really am! As for the reason for the beauty of writing, I have decided to post once a week, on Tuesday evenings so you can look out for them at that time!**

**Wolven Spirits: Thanks so much! I wanted to make this story just as much a character experience as a plotline rollercoaster! Means a lot to me to know that it was successful!**

**Elena: wow that was quite a long review! I absolutely loved reading it, the Game of Thrones Illusions, the Star Trek illusions, and the fact that you're a return reader! Squeal! Welcome back to the party and yes cap'n kirk and Jack Frost are a sexy duo! Hope you enjoy the new chappie!**

**Guest: This next chapter is lead in, but an epic battle is next on the roster!**

**Doubled-Helix: It's just a whole mad party here, isn't it? Trust me its not going to get better for a while emotions and hatred wise :\**

**I.F.T.S: ohmygoshyouaresuchanamazingbeta! Thankyouuuuuu! *hugs***

**Daniel1996: So glad you like it!**

**A Stripped Tigger: Don't get too comfortable with that idea, This story has a tendency of destroying comfort zones. **

**8fangirl8: Thanks so much!**

**Sheeijan: good will triumph over evil, that much I can promise you! If you need a little reassurance, go read my story, Immortal! Lots of jack!hurt in there too!**

**Props to my wonderful beta I.F.T.S and I do not own ROTG! **

**ENJOY!**

_Where we left off:_

_She remained bitter for well over a century, living up to her image as the destroyer of civilizations. She controlled the powers of Nature with grace and fury, pounding the land with its necessary storms to keep it pruned and in tune, never trying to calm the calamities for the sake of mankind. They would need to be tough to endure a world of cold and dark should her father have his way. _

_But her eyes and ears were always open and searching for signs that Armageddon was close at hand. And when the sounds of screeching nightmares filled the air, she wept in mourning. For the day of their reckoning had come. _

Chapter 6: Parley

Nicholas St. North stood before the massive globe that sat in the center of his workshop. He had remained in the same position for nearly two hours. His hand had hovered above the beacon countless times during those hours, fingers always drawing back and hiding in his beard until they regained the courage to make a reappearance. The option of calling a meeting before he knew why all the little lights on his globe were flickering was out of the question, but he couldn't just wait for the answer to fall into his lap. He was nearing the end of his rope and his options were growing thin.

With a sigh North pinched the bridge of his nose and opened the skylight to let the moon shine through.

"Manny, I am lost!" He admitted. "Tere is far too much fear in de air. Is not good. Vhat can I do?"

Nothing. Nicholas sighed and raked his fingers through his beard yet again, fingers catching in a tangle. Swearing under his breath, he untangled his hands and leaned heavily on the control board beneath him. Below, nearly a hundred hard working helpers were building toys with festive fervor and accuracy. Every one of them looked to him for guidance. He swore again and let his hand hover over the beacon.

_You always did curse far too much, Nicholas._

North's eyebrows shot up. He had only heard the voice of the man in the moon directly three times in all of his immortal years. The rest of his instructions were given through the words of others speaking on his behalf and interpretations of signs. To hear from the messenger of the Maker himself was a privilege not to be taken lightly.

"I apologize, old friend. I am trying to do better." North turned his face fully to the moon, searching its surface for any more signs of disapproval.

A rumbling chuckle resounded through his head. _The soldiers of the Maker are far from perfect, Nick, but He uses them all the same. You were chosen in spite of your flaws and it is because of them that you have and will always be able to reach out to so many of the lost ones. _

North allowed his eyes drop for a moment. "I only vish I had more to offer."

_Your willingness to trust in that which is unseen is far more than sufficient. So many others lack what you have and you will be used according to your willingness. I wish I could say I was bearing good news, but it is a warning and a call to arms that I have been asked to deliver tonight. _

"Vhat has happened?"

_ The enemy and his servant, Pitch Black, have been gathering their forces for some time now as I am sure you are aware. _

"Dat scoundrel? He has been gathering de scum for years and iz no closer to a victory dan da day he began!"

_ True as that may be, he has gathered a formidable army and a war must undoubtedly ensue. Gather your troops, General of Light, lead the people into battle. Dark days lay ahead, but there is light at the end and my Maker has been preparing you all for these hours for many years. There will be losses, but the victories will far outweigh them. This is a battle for the hearts of the masses and the life of one, because even one lost sheep is worth expending all our resources to recover. But take heart, my friend, because it is a war that has already been won._

North felt his spirits rise. "Ve vill do as you command," North cried and sent out the beacon across the world.

_One more thing, Nicholas. _

North paused his preparations. "Yes?"

_"This will be a war that will test your faith in the provision and the love. There is a lost sheep in the midst of the darkness and you will not be able to recognize it until you think it is too late. But have faith and carry on, because it is never too late for the shepherd to recover any of his flock. _

North nodded his head slowly and waited for any further instruction. When none was forthcoming, he steeled himself and prepared for company. His comrades arrived quickly, full of jitters and irritation. But when given the message the moon revealed they immediately began their preparations. War was close at hand.

~o.o~

Deep in the bowels of an underground cavern, Pitch Black paced. He had his orders, had his blessing, has his army, and had his secret weapon. He was ready, of this he was sure, and all that remained was to get his pieces on the board. Pitch stopped pacing long enough to approach the figure standing in the corner. He took the hand that lay limply against the spirit's side and placed it on the wall.

"Frost, Jökul," he said and watched with glee as a flash of white shot out of the boy's palm and coated the wall in an impossibly thick sheet of ice. Pitch patted the boy's cheek with one hand as he smiled and returned to his musings. The boy was perfect. He was a natural atomic bomb waiting to go off and Pitch knew every code. Just so long as he pushed the right buttons and played his cards correctly, he could detonate him at just the right moment. Until then, it was time to begin the game.

"I haven't had a good old fashioned parley in far too long. I believe that needs to be remedied."

With only a word, a shadow approached and waited for instructions.

"You will go to the Guardians and deliver a message for me."

_Yes, Master._ The shadow whispered.

"Tell them I wish to meet tomorrow at dusk to discuss our terms. Negotiations of sorts, not a battle, make sure those imbeciles understand that. They may pick the location; I can find them wherever they decide. You may go now and bring back a response."

The shadow bowed low, the movement nearly indiscernible from its normal shiftings, and disappeared into the walls of the chamber. Pitch didn't have to wait long, within half an hour the shadow had returned with news of their acceptance. A wide grin split the Nightmare King's face.

"Get ready, children of the light," he said. "For tomorrow the darkness begins."

**I know, I know, it was quite an uneventful chapter. But even though it was a filler and a lead in it was only there because the next chapter is so incredibly awesome that I had to make sure I set all the proper trains in motion! **

**See you all again next Tuesday!**

**SavedbyGrace94**


	7. Chapter 7: A Battle Won

**A/N: I'm sorry for the crappy chapter last time guys! It was a filler to get ready for this beauty but there's no excuse for what I served :( I revised it and corrected many of the mistakes but if any of you ever catch an error, let me know and I will correct it! Super shout out to all of you who reviewed on that crap:**

**Moonshroom429: Yes you are absolutely correct in that assumption and I'm glad you enjoyed that last chapter!**

**Guest: Glad you're pumped up and I hope I don't disappoint!**

**A Stripped Tigger: They will be in it for the duration of the story! Yay!**

**Doubled-Helix: Believe me, you will want to kill a lot of people after this chapter. Hide your deadly weapons for your own safety ;)**

**I.F.T.S: Aww! Thanks so much and you're such an awesome beta!**

**Taranodongirl1: IT'S A COMIN'! IT'S A COMIN'!**

**Beanie-art1: well sit back and relax because this one will keep you on the edge of your seat! Good luck with your painting as well! **

**Sheeijan: He breaks my heart too! I never know quite how he will react to a situation until I'm knee deep in it! Lol!**

**8fangirl8: pft! I post them so late you'll have to skip out on sleep to read them anyways! Lol! And yes it absolutely is an illusion to the bible. In fact, this entire story, strange as it seems, is one large illusion. By the end it will be fully apparent if you're looking!**

**I DON'T OWN ROTG! But I do like waffles. **

_Where we left off: _

_With only a word, a shadow approached and waited for instructions. _

_ "You will go to the Guardians and deliver a message for me."_

_ Yes, Master. The shadow whispered. _

_ "Tell them I wish to meet tomorrow at dusk to discuss our terms. Negotiations of sorts, not a battle, make sure those imbeciles understand that. They may pick the location; I can find them wherever they decide. You may go now and bring back a response."_

_ The shadow bowed low, the movement nearly indiscernible from its normal shiftings, and disappeared into the walls of the chamber. Pitch didn't have to wait long, within half an hour the shadow had returned with news of their acceptance. A wide grin split the Nightmare King's face. _

_ "Get ready, children of the light," he said. "For tomorrow the darkness begins."_

Chapter 7: A Battle Won

Pitch sat in his chambers, head resting heavily in his hand and boredom almost tangible in the air. His shadows had been bringing him whispers for hours, though few of those tidbits were actually of any merit. He knew the Guardians were planning on meeting him deep in the Canadian Wilderness. They would be sure to choose a location far enough away from any towns to prevent any human casualties of negotiations gone awry. But as of yet, they had given no indicators that they were moving. So here he sat, bored to tears because there was very little that could actually entertain him any longer.

A light rustling drew his attention to the corner of the room. Jökul was rocking absently from one foot to the other, his fingers picking at the threadbare hem of his shirt. Pitch sighed—rather loudly—and approached the boy. He had often become like this over the years, a ball of wintry energy pent up behind mental blocks that left him dazed, confused, and agitated. In any other circumstance, Pitch would have taken the sprite into one of the pits and released enough of the sand's hold on him to allow for a brief session of exercise and destruction. Like walking a pit bull to keep it from tearing up the couch from boredom and extra energy. By the time it was over, Jökul was drained just enough to take the edge off and Pitch was reminded of the power that he held in the palm of his hand; a worthy trade off for both parties.

But now was not the time to waste the boy's power on rock walls and mutated nightmares. Now was the time to rile it up. Poke the bucking bull and make him angry before the show.

As it was, the boy was going to get rid of the energy somehow. Whether by twiddling his thumbs or freezing a continent solid, it would be expended. Pitch rolled his eyes and took the boy by the hand, taking care to dam the flow of winter that threatened to spill over with the physical contact. Even with the fiddling, Jökul was still mentally present enough to follow Pitch down a hall and into the sitting room where he had spent many of his early years. Once there, the child spirit immediately took a seat on the floor next to the armchair that Pitch favored, foot still tapping and frost almost visibly writhing below his skin. Pitch took a moment to smile briefly at the boy's unquestioning obedience and recollection of Pitch's favored habits before he opened a chest and began to root around in it for his needed tinctures. Jökul hardly seemed to take notice of Pitch's mixing, he just sat with his grey eyes staring at a spot on the wall. But the sand within him would not allow for such insolence when Pitch returned and the boy's attention was immediately snapped to his master.

Pitch dipped his fingers into the stone bowl and swirled them in the bright blue paint. He spread it over both of the boy's temples, combing it through the white hair around his ears and spiking the unruly mop that remained.

"Jökul," he began, heightening the boy's attention with a grip on his chin. "Today is the day that I have long been awaiting. Since the moment I brought you into my home, I have been thinking of these next few hours and anxiously anticipating their arrival." He paused and smiled at his weapon. "Today is the day that I will destroy that which has been created to make room for that which I desire. And it is you that will help me do it." Pitch released the boy's chin, smiling at the blue fingerprints that only broadcasted to the world the complete control over his creation. The boy blinked once as Pitch re-dipped his fingers.

The Nightmare King began to speak again as he swiped his thumb over both of Jökul's brows, making him look every bit the feral animal that he was. "You will meet our greatest enemies today, Jökul. There is a woman with feathers and wings. I want you to freeze them and rip them from her shoulders. There is a rabbit that walks like a man, cripple him so he crawls at my feet like the rest of his rodent brothers. There is a man of sand as well. Coat him so thickly in hoarfrost that his golden shine can glitter only when the sun glints through the ice. And finally, there is a man with a long white beard. Make him watch as his friends die in agony then stab him through the heart."

With each order, Pitch drew another line on the left side of the boy's face. Rimming the underside of his eye, defining the cheekbone and the jaw, and running the length of his nose. With each order he tapped his sand into his creature's emotions, twisting them into hatred, fury, and fear. By the time he had finished with the war paint, not only was there a plethora of wintry energy pent up inside the shell of a spirit, but enough emotion to make sure there would be no survivors.

He left the boy seething on the rug of his sitting room when the shadows called him to the globe room, allowing Jökul enough freedom to frost himself over many times.

"What news?" Pitch asked, breathing in the hatred of the thousands of dark creatures that filled his halls like a pungent aroma.

_The enemy awaits your arrival in Saskatchewan, Dark Lord. There is a clearing deep in the forest where they have set up a base camp. _

A jagged-toothed smile split the Nightmare King's face. "Thank you for your service," He crooned. And with that he turned on his heel and returned to the sitting room to retrieve his prize and a certain crooked stick. It was almost dusk and the shadows were at their peak for travel.

Pitch smirked as he held firmly to the shoulder of the icy youth and melded into the shadows. They wouldn't know what hit them.

~o.o~

E. Aster Bunnymund stood and paced the clearing for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour. Tooth and Sandy had long since given up on trying to placate him and North looked like he was about ready to join him. He knew he shouldn't be so anxious, there was nothing to fear from a shadow-hopping scoundrel that fed off the fear of babes, but he couldn't help it. It was his nature to worry and at this late hour the shadows were at their peak for an ambush. Pitch could hide an entire army inside the shadow of a thimble and he now had access to hundreds of feet of dark shadows cast from the waning rays of the sun and the towering firs and evergreens.

Aster growled again and tapped his foot impatiently. "Where is 'e?" He snarled. "We've been waitin' here fer ovah an hour an we're runnin' outa daylight!"

Quite suddenly, a sickeningly smooth and all too familiar voice filled the clearing. "Calm yourself if you can, Thumper, I know your kind is nervous by nature but you're taking it a little far don't you think?"

Aster backed up to join his comrades, all of whom had already drawn their weapons. "A'right, Pitch," Aster called. "Joke's ovah, we held up our part o' the bargain. Come on out."

"Honestly a little trust would be most welcome. This whole round and round, watch your back because someone else has a pointy little object charade is getting quite old. I've got a proposition to give, you've got a proposition to accept and the sooner we can get this all over with the better."

"Little full of youself, yes, Pitch?" North called out into the shadows.

Pitch yawned and stepped from his hiding place. "I only act in accordance with my power. Which, at the moment, is quite high."

Tooth cringed at the sound of Aster grinding his teeth. "Aster," she whispered. "Stop that!" He shot her a glare but relaxed his jaw.

"I'm gettin' real tired o' this, North. Les jus hear what 'es got ta say and get outa 'ere."

"I am vith you on dat," North murmured.

Pitch chucked again. "Wonderful!" He stepped out into the open, the shadow to which he was anchored stretching to allow him full access to his opponents. "You have two choices, Guardians. Number one: war. A war in which you will undoubtedly loose many good and kind souls to either our corruption or our blades. Or option two: surrender unconditionally and we will spare any who do not rebel."

Aster scoffed. "I don' care if ya got all ah hell waitin' at yer beck an' call! We will nevah surrendah!" Pitch reached them in two strides, practically nose to nose with the rabbit.

"Oh, good," Pitch purred. "I was so hoping that would be your answer. A dead enemy cannot rebel nearly as effectively as a live one. But before I go to prepare my armies, I would like to give you a little parting gift." He grinned his Cheshire cat grin and slid back a step. Before the Guardians could react, he released a black smoke into their circle and slunk back into the shadows. The soldiers of light coughed and sputtered against the attack, trying their best not to breathe it in when in reality it should have been their eyes that they were protecting. After all, eyes were so very easily manipulated.

As the haze cleared, they could still hear Pitch's chuckling. "My Guardians," he crooned. "May I present to you my newest addition, Jökul Frosti."

Tooth gasped and gripped her needle-like sword a little tighter. Beside Pitch stood the most horrific creature she had ever seen. It's legs were that of a ram, but its arms like that of a man. The skin on the beast was tinged a greyish blue, decaying with frostbite as a stream of freezing air passed from the masked lips. Long, crooked horns protruded from the head, hoarfrost and icicles coating the body and clinging to the fur.

Pitch chuckled and put a hand on Jökul's shoulder. In reality the boy had not changed, just the Guardians' perception of him. After all, the Guardians of Childhood may find it difficult to fight against a child. Pitch breathed deep, their immortal fear filling him to the brim. Eyes still on his opponents, he bent to Jökul's level and let his lips almost rest on the boy's blue painted ears. "Kill them for their sins," he whispered, drawing back his sand from its blockade positions. He would not release the phoenix, not yet, but the boy was a formidable foe even without the tempest powers of destruction.

A growl ripped from the boy's raw throat and he charged forward the moment Pitch released his shoulder, staff swinging and power charging. Bunnymund met him halfway to his intended target, pulling his attention from the bird lady to the rabbit man. Aster threw a boomerang as he ran, forcing Jökul to duck to avoid it. The boy's attack with a knee to the chest was stopped with a right hook to the jaw.

The boy stumbled back, eyes ablaze with feral energy. Ice shot from his palm, catching the boomerang on its return trip and he swung it towards his adversary. Aster fell with a grunt when he was clocked in the head with his own weapon. The boy-monster was on him in seconds beating the dazed rabbit with fists laced with hoarfrost.

The other Guardians were almost too stunned to move. Almost. North charged, scimitars glinting and blood pumping. He dislodged the beast with a kick to his ribcage, circling it as it growled and stood. Tooth and Sandy flew to help, Tooth pulling Aster out of harm's way while he recovered and Sandy going to North's aid. Jökul grinned when he saw the little man of sand. _Hoarfrost for him_. He gripped the staff with both hands and unleashed a spray of deadly ice. The little man's eyes went wide and he threw up a wall of golden sand to protect himself, barely able to grab North and bring him behind the blockade when the beast turned his attention to Father Christmas.

Tooth and Aster joined as quickly as they could, unable to watch their friends take a beating from a distance. Lashing out in quick, coordinated attacks, they surrounded the monster that only grinned and clawed at them in its own fury. It seemed to be everywhere, shooting frost at one adversary while warding another off with a roundhouse kick. He was by no means untouchable, he just didn't seem to notice the blood trickling from his growing inventory of wounds and the bruises from his many blows.

North was the first to fall, frozen from the waist down, but the beast never went for the kill and instead focused on the other three. Aster came next. A blow to the head following a sickening crunch as his left hind leg was broken. But the boy was unable to finish the job with the other two flitting around like insects.

Jökul called forth an ice storm, forcing the bird-enemies to the ground while he took to the air. The little golden man was the hardest to catch unguarded. Any of his attempts at freezing were only shed off like a snake loosing its skin. The bird lady on the other hand was already almost down for the count. Ice coated her wings so thickly that they hung from her shoulders like weighty burdens.

_She will be easy. _The sand whispered in his head. _ Finish the bird lady, frost boy. _

He formed one, long icicle, the tip glinting like it was smiling in bloodlust. He dove towards her, silent as death, but a band of gold wrapped around his waist, halting his kill. It yanked him from the sky and threw him into the tree line, grabbing him before he had the chance to recover. He froze the band and it fell away but another formed just as quickly. Again and again he was slammed into trees and rocks, bashing him until he somehow managed to slip under a lash. But the big man, whose body he froze had escaped as well, and with the help of the two others he hadn't managed to cripple, they circled him like prey.

He knew there was something more down inside; a greater power to be wielded. But he couldn't reach it, and every time he tried he felt only anger like acid pouring down the back of his neck. Fury filled his bones and he lashed out without thinking, using every bit of wintry power that he was able to grasp to push them back. But they were stronger than he was and there were three of them against only him.

His fight was not valiant. It was not for honor or duty or love. But even when they had him pinned down and a blade raised to end it all, he still struggled on with an animal instinct.

"Stop!" A hoarse voice screamed through the dying storm. Jökul turned his head to find the crippled rabbit limping over to them, shock etched into his furry features. "It's not what ya think! E's not what ya think!"

"Bunny, get away from it!" The bird screeched, pulling him back away.

"Him!" The rabbit insisted and pulled himself free. "It's an illusion, Toothie, 'e's not what ya think! North don't ya dare gut him!"

North paused and pulled back his blade. "Bunny…beast hit you hard in de head. You not see de tings correct."

"No ya bloody idiots, yer not seein' things correct! It's a kid! Yer gonna kill a kid!"

North blinked and looked at the struggling creature before him. Legs and horns of a ram, bloodlust in its eyes and icicle weapons in its grasp. A monster fit to put the Minotaur to shame. North shook his head and raised his sword. It's time they ended this.

"North!" Bunny cried again, his voice reaching a whining lilt. "Stop! North…North, touch 'is feet! Yer not gonna feel hooves!"

The Cossack almost ignored his friend, so obviously deluded by his wounds, but something deep inside was screaming "no" as well. So he sheathed his blade, knelt low on the ground, and felt along the unrestrained calf. No fur. When he hit an ankle his body began to wilt. Though it was ice cold and kicking frantically, North held the human foot in his large hands and counted each toe. And before his eyes the beast disappeared, leaving a child spirit dressed in rags and wearing Viking war paint. The boy snarled at North and struggled against the sand cords that bound him tightly.

"Tooth," North choked and put her little feathered hand on the boy's foot. She cried when she saw him, eyes filling with fire as she looked at the tree line where Pitch stood smirking. The moment Sandy's hand touched the boy, the cords melted away and the sprite was up again, growling and pacing in spite of his numerous injuries.

"Monster!" Tooth screamed as she rushed at Pitch, drawing the rest of them away from the slave and towards the master. With a smirk Pitch melded with the shadows, disappearing from their line of sight. A laugh from behind had them spinning around, weapons raised. Pitch stood in the center of the clearing, his hands set firmly on the boy's shoulders and a grin splitting his face.

"Pitch…" Aster warned.

Pitch chuckled again and ran his fingers through the boy's hair. The child leaned into the touch, eyes lulling to half-mast. Ice began to crawl over him, stemming the bleeding from his many injuries. "Pitiful thing, isn't he?" Pitch said.

"Give us boy, Pitch," North replied.

"Give him to you? Now why would I do that? He is mine to control and mine to play with. I never really was all that good at sharing, you know." As if to accentuate his point, Pitch took Jökul's chin in his hand, and pressed the boy's face into his robe. "I don't know why you'd want him anyway, first thing he did was attack you. Oh well, no one ever said the moon gave you common sense to go with your immortality."

"Release him, Pitch!" Tooth called. "He is a child. Children belong to us until they grow and make their own decisions."

Pitch chortled. "He's nearly three hundred years old! Believe me, Miss Toothiana, he is more than old enough to choose his side."

"Then why don' y a release 'im an let 'im choose!" Aster snarled, standing as best he could on his one good leg.

"Tempting," Pitch sang. A black sand blade formed in the hand that cupped the boy's chin. In a flash it was at the sprite's throat. "But I've got other plans and I would hate to ruin them."

"Vhat do you vant for boy, Pitch," North asked cautiously. He took a step forward, hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to rip the boy free. Jökul hadn't even responded when the blade appeared.

"As delicious as it would be to extort untold riches and power from you, I really don't want to give up my chess pieces, North. As I said, he's mine to use, mine to abuse, mine to play with, and should I so desire: mine to kill." And with that he slit the boy's throat, laughing as he melded into the shadows. He was gone before Jökul even hit the ground.

**Do not kill me. I have already written the next chapter so be assured that it will come. But like the others, you will have to wait until next week to read it! *evil laughter* **

**Challenge: send me lots of reviews and I might just post it sooner! But you will really have to blow me away tho ;) **

**Toodles!**


	8. Chapter 8: Was Blind But Now I See

**A/N: Wow guys! Lots of reviews for that chapter…a few angry ones—albeit warranted—but for the most part absolutely flattering! As promised (though not as early as I wanted to post it), here is chapter 8 early! **

**Shoutouts because you are all fantabulous!**

**SheDevil333: you're review made me giggle lol! Here's a chapter as a consolation prize!**

**Taranodongirl1: HERE TIS!**

**Death-Sama01: You were like the only reviewer that grasped my plan for this next chapter! Most people thought I just killed him lol! But then again if you read my other story, Immortal, you would be used to me killing characters lol!**

**Guest: yes :) YES! I REALLY DID IT!**

**Guest: I put it up early just for your reading pleasure!**

**Insanereader3: I don't do too many cliff hangers so fear not, this next chapter will be a little easier to swallow. Sort of….**

**Beanie-art1:I wish you could have reviewed a million times! That would make my day! And yes please to the moustache, I want to be surprised when I read your anonymous reviews!**

**Doubled-Helix: alright, put the atomic war cannon to the side for a few minutes, the next chapter is here and its supah angsty! Yusss! By the way, Pitch has gone into hiding for this chapter because of that last review of yours. I think you scared him. **

**Bug349: It's okay, I wasn't expecting that many reviews on chapter 6, it wasn't very good. I like this chapter though and I can't wait to hear what you think of it! Enjoy!**

**Skylar Lewis: That's alright, most people do after that chapter!**

**Demon-Kegetsuki: asdfghjkl. THIS.**

**Sheeijan: He's a strange one all right!**

**Sakura-blossoms-26: Sorry! Hope this one's a little better!**

**Michaela95: It's okay! It'll get better!**

**Moonshroom420: here it is! Out and ready to read! Pitch is very unfair, but then again, no one ever said he was logical lol! Enjoy and thanks for all the PM's, they brighten my day!**

**A Stripped Tigger: Pitch is nothing if he is not extreme! Enjoy his insanity while you can!**

**Guest: Thanks for the review and hope you enjoy the newest chapter!**

**Jesusfreak200: Again I love your name and I hope you love the newest chapter!**

**That was a lot of reviews lol! Well enjoy the chapter, I don't own ROTG!**

_Where we left off:_

"_As delicious as it would be to extort untold riches and power from you, I really don't want to give up my chess pieces, North. As I said, he's mine to use, mine to abuse, mine to play with, and should I so desire: mine to kill." And with that he slit the boy's throat, laughing as he melded into the shadows. He was gone before Jökul even hit the ground. _

Chapter 8: Was Blind But Now I See

Jökul's eyes grew wide as blood dumped down the front of his shirt. Eyes unseeing and mind unaware of the help that stood just a few feet away, the boy's legs fell out of under him and he lay gasping and choking as one icy hand tried to freeze the wound. A cough shot blood from his mouth and the wound, cracking the ice he had placed and painting the snow beneath him. He wheezed, fear finally breaking though the fog. He wanted to go home.

North was the first to get within reach, scimitar already ripping a thick swath of his undershirt to bind the wound, but the boy wouldn't have it. With all his waning power he warded them all off, trying to freeze them solid while he choked on his own blood. Every offered hand or paw was nipped with frost, every sand laden advance stopped short of its destination by the ice that broke its form. He had plastered quite a few layers of ice on his neck, but it wasn't pliable and only cracked with each gasping breath.

Tooth felt her breath quicken when she saw his eyelids flutter and slushy blood break through the ice.

"North," she whispered. "Distract him so Sandy can put him out. We don't have time for this." North nodded his understanding and moved directly into the boy's waning field of vision. A shaking hand was lifted, ice dancing at the tips of the fingers. But before he could shoot, a small stream of sand settled over his eyes. The hand fell limp and the blood began to flow freely.

In a flash, North was at the boy's side, his burly hand clenching the white fabric over the wound. The boy let out a gasp, eyes fluttering. It was all he could do to fight the sand that continued to try and put him under. The cloth was drenched in seconds, a paw and feathered hand reaching to reapply the pressure while another bandage was produced. They elevated him slightly, just enough to get the fabric under his neck to get a good wrapping. The tricky part would be not hindering his already labored breaths in the process.

The moment they tightened the wrapping there was a flurry of hands and paws lifting him from the blood stained snow and into an equally red sleigh. By the time they had him secured and the sleigh rocketing into open air he had succumbed to unconsciousness by the blood loss and the sand. North brought them through a portal the moment they burst from the tree line, pushing his mounts to their limits. With a wound like that even seconds could mean the difference between life and death.

They touched down outside of the workshop, the hooves of the deer hitting the ground before the portal even closed. North dismounted and threw open his front doors while the other three lifted Jökul from the sleigh and carried him in. Bunny took his legs and Tooth his torso, Sandy in charge of keeping his neck steady and his mind asleep. By the looks of him, there wasn't much sand needed to keep him out.

They did their best not to jostle him, but nevertheless they were quite thankful when a gurney appeared under them and they were able to set him down. Even with the adrenaline, the pain from their wounds was excruciating. North pulled the gurney down a hall towards the infirmary, Sandy floating along beside it with his little hands on either side of Jökul's jaw to keep him steady. Bunny and Tooth trailed behind as quickly they could, the sounds of Russian curses and the pounding of Yeti feet a trustworthy beacon to their destination.

North had already begun working by the time they arrived, medically trained Yetis trying to get Jökul stable while North was fumbling his way through sewing the boy's throat closed. It was all Tooth could do to help Bunny to a chair before North was calling for her aid.

"Tooth I can't see and wittle needle does not grab. I need you to peench een his troat and cut off blood flow."

"You want me to what?" She screeched.

"Peench artery, Toothie! Hurry!"

"I can't just put my hand in his throat!"

"Yes you can! Yeti fingers too big, you must or he vill die." North grimaced and turned his head when a spray of blood caught him in the face. "Tooth!" He yelled.

Tooth swallowed hard and slipped her little fingers into the gaping hole. She didn't need to search for long, the blood flow was so pressurized she would have had to be blind to not find it. She winced as she pinched down on the vessel, but nodded to tell North he could continue. Somehow in the chaos someone managed to get her a needle and she began stitching the artery closed with sutures made of materials that would dissolve over time. She knew they weren't the prettiest sutures, but she had seen enough wisdom teeth removals to know how to use a needle. By the time she was finished, North had drained the blood that pooled in the boy's neck and was busy stitching the tissues together.

It took them twenty minutes in all to stitch the boy up, but it felt far longer than that. The infirmary was an unholy mess. Blood sprays up the back wall, the gurney was dripping with red, and there were creatures running about carrying multiple pieces of medical equipment. Finally a yeti noticed the bruised and battered guardians that were scattered around the room looking dazed and trying to help but only managing to get in the way. He brought them all out one by one and appointed others of his kind to treat their many wounds, assuring them that the boy would be fine. Even Aster, the Guardian of Hope, had his doubts about that.

Only the Sandman was allowed to stay; his only injury a scratch on the leg from where Jökul had clawed him and that had long since begun to heal. The boy had not been so lucky. He was covered in blood, some of it dry but most of it still wet and sticky. It had mingled with the paint on his face and in his hair, turning white and blue to a sickly shade of purple. The boy took a shuddering breath, his damaged windpipe struggling to bring in air. Sandy sent a stream of golden sand towards the youth, willing him to take it and dream deep. But it didn't take, and all Sandy could do was watch with a frown as the sand swirled around the boy's head aimlessly, its dream cargo halted at the docks and not granted entry. A silent sigh of frustration was all Sandy could muster before he tried again, this time crafting a dream that would only need to enter to flourish. It vanished before it could even take hold. He tried again and again to bring peace to the boy, but his mind simply wouldn't accept it.

The two yetis that remained worked around Sandy, cutting off the bloody rags that served as the boy's clothing and bringing around a basin of slightly warm water so they could begin to wash him. Without his clothes, Sandy could see how thin their new charge really was. Though he was coated with blood, Sandy could still count every rib and see every part of the boy's hipbones. He was only skin that had been stretched over a skeleton with a little sinew to hold it all together.

Sandy shook his head and turned his attention to the boy's mind, allowing the yetis to complete their work in peace. Dreams were the fruit of a resting mind, and if the boy did not dream then he was not resting. The reason why he was not resting was the cause of Sandy's search. Little golden hands rested on blue painted temples and felt for any disturbance, listened for any changes. But there were none. The mind was empty, suspended in some strange version of limbo that offered no rest and no peace. Sandy could find no reason why that would be, but even so he couldn't shake the feeling that even though the boy's conscious was empty that there was something sinister keeping it that way. Maybe it was the forced silence, or the haunting look in those grey empty eyes. Or maybe there was nothing to indicate wrongness except for the guardians' misplaced yet so very, very appropriate discomfort. It wasn't often that Sandy's gut instinct was wrong and the little golden man resolved to get to the bottom of it when the boy's vitals were a little more stable.

But Sandy had no more time to dwell on what lay within the youth's psyche. The blood on his chest had been removed, and with it the physical barrier that had hidden Jökul's wounds. Dark purple bruising was wrapped like a band around the thin ribcage, obviously broken ribs swollen and angry. He had done that. He had squeezed harder because the monster/ child had been so squirmy and this was the result.

Sandy tried to look away when the yetis started to work the blood and paint free from the rest of him but his eyes were glued to the ever-increasing tally of injuries that were his fault entirely A wide gash in his scalp from where he smashed the boy into the rocks, entire sections of skin lifted away and the flesh embedded with gravel, wood, and dirt. That had been from the trees Sandy had whipped him into. A myriad of impact bruises and one long and thick splinter they pulled out of his heel. Though they were not the boy's only injuries, these were the ones that Sandy had directly caused.

He had thought he was protecting Tooth. In all honesty he probably saved her life. But looking at the evidence before him, Sanderson couldn't help but realize that he had gone far beyond protection. He had been out to kill, and had it not been for Bunny, they would be burying an icy corpse instead of treating all his scrapes and bruises. He had almost killed a child that had no control over his actions. He had been blinded, not by the sand, but by rage. It was for that reason that as soon as the yetis took their leave after the boy was clean and stable, Sandy wept. He wept for the boy, a soul trapped in the grips of darkness even though his body was out of the shadow of nightmares. Wept for himself, a supposed force for good that had been so easily tricked into committing evil. He wept for many things in those evening hours, some selfish, many not, but the weeping took far more out of him than the battle did.

The others found him in the ice spirit's room many hours later, hunkered over the boy's head, dull tracks dried in the golden skin on his cheeks. Though he had only sustained a scratch in the physical, in the spiritual he was beaten down and torn asunder. He looked worse than they did and their injuries had not been so superficial. Tooth's beautiful wings were torn in more than one location—a product of the ice shards that had blown on the wind—and she was sporting more than a few new bruises and cuts. North could hardly walk because of the severe frostbite in his legs, but he was a resilient fellow and the yetis did not think any toes would have to be amputated. His bruises matched Tooth's. Aster was physically by far the worst of the three. Forced to the ground, he hopped along on three legs, his hind left foot splinted and bound tightly. The bones had required setting, but the foot was expected to fully heal with time. Until then, he was crippled. As an animal in the wild, such a wound would mean death. But Bunnymund was no ordinary animal, and even though most of the pole's occupants were rather large and imposing, his environment was relatively safe for recovery. At least it used to be. Now a frost spirit that had attacked them all was lying unrestrained in their infirmary.

Bunny hopped a little closer to the assailant, senses ready and reading for any signs of danger. But there was none. The boy was lying on a fresh bed still as death. No frost climbed over the bed, no ice clung to his now painfully obvious slight frame, his eyes didn't even move behind his eyelids. The only sign of life was the slow, wheezing breaths that broke the silence every once in a great while.

"Sandy?" Tooth pressed quietly. "Are you alright?"

The little golden man shook his head, tears once more melting a track down his face. Tooth's arms were around him in an instant and he silently cried into her shoulder. It was his fault. He was responsible for this creatures' pain.

"It's not your fault, Sanderson," she whispered into his hair. His shoulders shook with a sob and he pulled away with a nod.

_Yes it is._

He pointed towards their charges' chest, sand leaving his grasp and ghosting lightly over the wounds.

"You didn't know," She insisted, waving the sand back though Sandy saw how much the movement of her shoulder hurt her. She was a very strong girl. "None of us did."

The air in the room grew stagnant. That was a lie. In the back of their minds they all knew something was wrong. But they ignored it.

"Ah knew it," Asters voice rasped out. "Ah knew somethin' wasn' right an' I didn't say nothin'."

"Aster, that's not true," Tooth insisted. "He wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"Don' defend me, Sheila!" He spat. "Ah still beat 'im for far too long and far too hard knowin' what ah did."

Tooth was silent. Everyone was.

"Ah could feel 'im for real whenevah ah hit 'im," Aster whispered. "felt 'is mouth when ah did that." He gestured quite plainly to the boy's lips. Both were split, and a reddish purple bruising was spread across his mouth and jaw. "There wasn' a mask there 'an ah knew it. Ah felt skin, felt bone and blood. An' ah knew there was no way that monstah we saw would feel like thah. But ah hit 'im again an' thas why that happened." This time they looked to the boy's collar bone, cleanly snapped and sagging under the weight of recovery. "The only time ah stopped an' thought about it was whin ah felt his foot break mine. An through the pain o' when he hit me in the 'ead, ah finley saw 'im. An' it wasn' a hoof tha broke mah leg, it was a foot. 'Is eyes were so dead! Nuthin' in em. But 'e was just a kid, an I'd been beatin' him."

Tooth looked at the boy. Looked at the slash that ripped from his shoulder to his elbow. Knew there was a matching one across his back. Her wings did that.

North looked as well, his blue eyes scanning the body of the one who froze him solid. He saw the slashes of his scimitars just peeking around from the back of his thighs and calves. His knee caps were swollen and bruised. North had been trying to take his legs out so he couldn't run. He could only be thankful that the boy moved far too quickly for him to properly hit his marks.

"How could Manny allow this to happen?" Tooth asked. "Why didn't he warn us?"

Guilt preceded a flush that found its way up the back of North's neck. Pain shot up his legs, a sensation that would have been welcomed = had it not been for the guilt. He would rather feel nothing for a few more hours than say what he was about to say.

"Ee did," the large man whispered. "Ee told me dat tings vould not be as dey seem, and dat dere vas a lost sheep in de midst of de storm."

"When did e' say that?" Aster asked, eyes wide.

"He say dis vhen he give warning of war to come. Den I call you to pole and ve get message from Pitch."

"Why didn' ya tell us?" Aster yelled. "We coulda avoided this whole thing!"

North flushed again. "You really tink cryptic message dat make no sense vould have stopped us from defending ourselves?" He spat.

"Nah, mate, but it woulda stopped us from goin' into attack mode instead ah defense."

"You can't prove dat!"

"Boys!" Tooth screeched. "Stop it right now! Neither one of you can prove that it would or wouldn't have made a difference, so drop it! We screwed up, all of us. Nothing is going to change that now. The best thing we can do is to help this boy recover and protect him from Pitch. We have a war to win and fighting over whose fault it is that we couldn't see past what our eyes could sense is pointless and a waste of time." She paused. "We are not perfect creatures, and as much as we don't want to believe that, it's true. But we are not evil creatures either. We were created for a purpose and we must do everything we can to complete that, no matter how imperfect we are or how many times we screw up. We need to learn from what we did and move on. And pray that we never hurt this boy again."

The two men quieted, sending the room into a mournful silence. They all left, one by one, to see to their duties. Sandy had dreams to cast, especially now when fear was on the loose. Tooth had fairies to direct, calling for her girls to receive their assignments at the pole. She couldn't fly to her palace. North had toy production to oversee. Christmas was in six weeks and as much as he would love for time to stop for a few hours, the clock would only go on ticking regardless of his wishes. Bunny was the only one left without a duty to fulfill. It was too early to begin his seasonal preparations, not that he could have made it to the warren anyway, so he stayed in the room with the sprite they had "saved" and waited for him to wake up. It was the least he could do after being the first one to land a punch.

**Finito! Review if you'd like! I'd sure like it! Btw if you have any suggestions for this story I would love to hear them and work with you to make them happen if its possible! Lets see if we can break the review record of 18 reviews for last chapter! See you guys next time!**

**Victoria **


	9. Chapter 9: Fool Me Thrice

**A/N: It's late, I'm sorry. But my life is filled with so many exciting things that are coming up that I'm literally being exhausted by excitement! Also I had to split this chapter into two because I would have given you all heart attacks if everything happened at once. SO here is part one :) **

**SHOUTOUTS BECAUSE OHMYGOSH TWENTY REVIEWS ON ONE CHAPTER THAT'S A RECORD FOR THIS STORY AND YOU GUYS ARE AMAZINGGGGGG!**

**Taranodongirl1: It's coming! It's coming!**

**AzazelLuciferDeathCrowley: Oh he will be making a reappearance MWAHAHA! **

**8fangirl8:angst gives you warm fuzzies?! Here *throws angst* take some more warm fuzzies! They're plentiful this chappie :))))**

**Sheeijan: I like Bunny too, I didn't want to make it predictable and have him hate Jack. I like Bunny much more this way :)**

**TearsDrippingDown: HERE IT IS WAHHH!**

**Beanie-art1: There are big plans about big plans about other big plans in this story ;DD the answer to your question is at the end of this chapter DON'T GO READING IT OUT OF CONTEXT NOW, YOU WAIT AND READ THE REST! Here have a squeegee face . **

**Moonshroom420: patience my friend! Pitch's plot will soon be uncovered!**

**A Stripped Tigger: yes and no…**

**Bug349: don't worry, we all want to kill him. I might just shake things up and kill someone else…wait you weren't supposed to read that…**

**Guest: read below and find out!**

**Doubled-Helix: He's quaking in his boots…er…robe. And yes Bunny is a total sweetie in my fic!**

**Fireyouko: I will definitely be writing more! And all your questions will be answered shortly, in the next chapter!**

**Jesusfreak200: Bigger plan. Definitely. **

**Five Until Class: meh its okay to have fun reading angst :) Otherwise there wouldn't be so much of it!**

**Sol and G'syr: calm down you two! Here, have another chapter, I look forward to our weekly trios of conversation!**

**Dan: Thank you!**

**Guest: Yay Yay Yay!**

**KusajishiFukutaicho: wow your name is hard to spell! I had this idea for quite a while, but this story has taken on a life of its own! I'm glad you're enjoying the story :D **

**Thisisentertaining: Again I'm so glad you noticed my allegory! And yes, the questions will still remain! YUS!**

**Kiss-My-Asphault: Sorry my story made you cry! Here, have an update…but I would keep a tissue box on hand from now until the end of the story…**

**JEEZ CHILDREN! That was a lot of reviews! Took me half an hour to reply to them all! THANKSABUNCH :D **

**ENJOY CHAPTER 9! I don't own RoTG **

_Where we left off:_

_They all left, one by one, to see to their duties. Sandy had dreams to cast, especially now when fear was on the loose. Tooth had fairies to direct, calling for her girls to receive their assignments at the pole. She couldn't fly to her palace. North had toy production to oversee. Christmas was in six weeks and as much as he would love for time to stop for a few hours, the clock would only go on ticking regardless of his wishes. Bunny was the only one left without a duty to fulfill. It was too early to begin his seasonal preparations, not that he could have made it to the warren anyway, so he stayed in the room with the sprite they had "saved" and waited for him to wake up. It was the least he could do after being the first one to land a punch. _

Chapter 9: Fool Me Thrice

Jökul slept for three full days, the first of which was undoubtedly the worst of the bunch. The boy appeared dead, eyes unflinching beneath their lids and skin growing ever paler as the wheezing breaths slowed to a crawl. No ice or chill emanated from his body; he was like a corpse.

They kept someone in the room with him constantly in those early hours, fearful that either Pitch would make an appearance or the boy's soul would beat a hasty retreat. Thankfully, neither occurred and by the morning of the second day, the boy's breathing began to find rhythm in the beats of his heart and all of the wounds received a thick plastering with ice to begin the healing process. Encouraged by these signs of revival, the Guardians began to nurse the hope of a full recovery. But their jobs took precedence and there were times during those two days that no one could be spared to sit with him and he was left alone for a few hours. It was during one of those lonely stretches on his third day of liberation that Jökul finally opened his eyes.

The room was very bright to his catacomb vision, the lamps searing his sight and causing pain. Grey eyes clenched shut and a slithering whine crept up his throat. He felt no fear, his mind hazed both with pain and the ever-present fog that clouded his reflections. Disoriented and weak, Jökul lay there for some time, snippets of thoughts popping up and shining briefly with the desire for anything other than this emptiness. Anything to fill the void where rage or comforting oblivion once stood. He was a nothing now and he desperately wanted to be a something. Anything.

Body numb yet throbbing with pangs of pain, Jökul rolled off of the bed, the cotton blend calf length shorts and tie tunic doing little to cushion the impressive drop onto the wooden floors. The IV in his arm ripped free but he hardly noticed the blood or the pain. Nothing mattered anyhow.

He stumbled aimlessly around the room for a while, gasping for breath and straining his stitches until he happened upon a doorknob and managed to turn it. The room opened to a hall that wasn't quite so bright and he staggered down it, taking turns randomly and ending up in even brighter places before retreating back into the shadows. He wandered for so long he lost track of where he came from—not that he ever knew where he was going to begin with. During his time with Pitch, the shadows in the wall would swallow him up when he wandered and spit him out wherever Pitch was if he had been summoned or in his cell if he was getting in the way. But when he collapsed in an exhausted and quivering heap in the darkest corner of an outcrop, the shadows did nothing at all. They did not drag him kicking and screaming or sweep him away before he knew what had happened. They merely sat there and made the light that much more brilliant.

The tears came long after the pain did, more a product of confusion and the void where voices had once whispered to him than the pain that had him crawling with ice and doubling over on himself. He had been abandoned and no one would ever find him. So he curled up in the shadow and waited for nothing.

He sat there for quite some time, knees to his chest and arms wrapped around them before the dull sound of thumping and scraping broke through the fog. Weary grey eyes lolled open, long since emptied of tears yet still blurry, and beheld a creature hobbling down the hall on three legs towards a door. Jökul shrunk further into the shadows when it passed and watched tiredly as it opened the door and went inside. His eyes drooped to half-mast, the thumping from the room doing little to break his lack of concentration. The yell that followed, however, brought him to his senses rather quickly.

The creature roared again, the cry muffled to Jökul's cotton-filled ears but loud enough to make him cringe and press himself further into the corner. The creature was halfway through another yell when it caught sight of him. Relief slumped the being's shoulders and it hobbled over to him, saying little things that made no sense and drawing ever closer. Jökul whimpered and cringed when it came close but the creature made no move to retreat. The boy could not help but lash out when a paw was set on his arm. He struck with his foot, the impact suddenly flushing out the empty and making way for the full. Gone was the terrifying nil and returned was the whole that took him over and gave him rest. He was nothing yet everything and he wholeheartedly abandoned himself to that which filled him yet did not satisfy. It was foreign but it was _something. _

The creature cried out and backed away but Jökul was on him in a flash, out of the corner's safety and into the open, lashing out in uncoordinated grabs and swipes. He gasped for air past stitches and a damaged windpipe but did not halt his advance even when the pounding of other feet came thundering down the hall. Ice shot up the walls and the creature scrambled back from him. It blocked his blows but sent none of its own.

_Easy kill. _The whispers crooned, laughing as his fingers danced with deadly hoar frost.

Suddenly strong arms plucked him from his feet, pinning him to a broad chest and refusing to let go no matter how loud he screeched or how hard he kicked. His feet met their marks and ice spread from every part of him, coating his captor because it still refused to release him. Voices screamed and yelled around him.

Blinding, maddening rage boiled his blood and filled his bones as he howled and struggled against the arms that held him. But suddenly the rage drained away as dread filled the pit of his belly. _Gold! Gold!_ _Gold! _It danced around him, sending the whispers shrieking and retreating, leaving him only with their fear as proof that they were once there. But he struggled on through the fear and screamed even louder the closer the man of gold came. Long, shimmering arms wrapped around him, sliding over his brow and touching his face. The moment the grains touched his eyes he fell limp against the arms that held him. His fight was gone and it was all he could do to remain conscious as they carried him off and laid him back down on the soft thing. He vaguely felt them grabbing at his arms and legs before the shimmering arm brushed his eyes and sent him back into oblivion.

~.o.~

North, Bunny, and Sandy sat in the great room silently nursing hot drinks while their minds ran circles around their problems. The boy had awoken, and though the improvement had been staggering, they couldn't help but feel a bit guilty when they realized they wished he still slept.

North groaned and rubbed his knuckle between his eyebrows, a tension spot that always throbbed when he faced great tribulations. "Vhat are ve to do vith him?"

No one answered for a time; they were just as baffled as he was. Pitch had not been there to instigate an attack yet the boy still assaulted them.

"Well," Bunny began, his paw gently picking at the bandages around his leg. "The lil' guy's tied up now so ah think we're safe fer at least a bit." He paused to take an audible gulp from his mug. "But we need ta do sumthin long term."

North nodded again. "Vhat happened again?"

"Ah went in ta check on 'im whin ah got back from restin' an the room was empty. Ah yelled fer ya, thinkin' Pitch came an' got 'im, befer ah saw 'im huddled in tha corner with tears runnin' down 'is cheeks. Ah tried to help 'im but 'e kept flinchin' and whimperin' like a pup before e' snapped and jumped me."

"Das it?" North asked. "Vhat changed?"

"Nuthin' really. Ah didn't do anythin' different from one second ta the other. But 'is eyes went from grey an' bleary ta kinda milky whin he attacked. An' the screamin' whin ya picked 'im up was different. Even more different when Sandy came in."

North nodded curtly and rubbed his forehead. Nothing made sense! From the moment Pitch pulled him out of the shadows and disguised him as a beast, confusion reigned supreme. He sighed again.

"Ve vill keep in room tied up for now. Velcro should be holding strong to keep him in bed. Ve'll tink of someting else in morning, but tonight I vill talk vith Man in Moon to ask vor help."

The others nodded in agreement and began their nightly routines. Sandy and Tooth were back on their feet, the latter directing little fairies and former sending off streamers of dreams, but Bunny and North remained at the pole, retreating to different corners of the large estate to rest and request help.

The night was cast in the silence of the arctic chill but morning came with a torrent of activity. Jökul had escaped his bondage by squeezing ice in between the Velcro straps to separate them and had wandered far from his room in search of a way out. The voices said it was time to make it snow outside. It was only by chance that he wandered down the hall in which Sandy was perched in a sitting room and the little man was able to drop him before he could damage anyone or anything. The third time they were not so fortunate.

The leather buckles they held him down with provided only a momentary distraction when he woke and once they were removed he tore through the workshop in search of an open window or door. A yeti got in his path and tried to stop him from escaping into that cold and unforgiving landscape. She had been one of the few chosen to treat the boy when he was injured and could still remember the horrid wounds she had treated. She tried to handle Jökul with care, recalling the deadly lacerations, but the boy remembered nothing and sent her through a wall. He would have escaped had North not arrived and grabbed him by the ankle. A demonic squall filled the air and Jökul kicked, clawed, and shot ice at his captor. North held strong and refused to release him until Sandy came and put him back to sleep.

They left him lying on the floor while they tended to the yeti. Many ribs were broken and a few of the bone shards had punctured organs. They almost lost her that night. Had it not been for her resilience, she would have died from her injuries.

North himself was sporting more than a few new wounds. Frost burns covered his body and bite and claw marks mangled his tattoos. With Bunny out of commission he seemed to be the only one strong enough to hold the boy down. After three escapes his strength was growing thin and they were loosing hope. The Man in the Moon was not answering and the boy only grew more violent with each encounter. The restraints couldn't hold him any longer so Sandy wrapped a band of dream sand around his eyes to keep him asleep. They didn't enjoy resorting to such a resolution, but anything was better than waiting for him to kill someone.

North and the others questioned more than once over the days that followed whether or not they should have ever put the child in the sleigh. It was a horrible thing to think of, and it ate at their very centers to know that it had even crossed their minds. The sprite was not in control of himself, that much was obvious, but they didn't know how to fix him, didn't know how to help him, and couldn't help but consider that death might have been better than the living hell the poor boy must be facing.

But the thought that edged most dangerously along the sides of those was the possibility that the boy really did know what he was doing. The prospect that the evil they felt within him came, not from Pitch, but from his soul. And with that thought came the only fathomable option. The boy would have to die.

These thoughts and many others fought with the center in each of the Guardians of Childhood for many days, driving them to the brink of insanity with a never-ending cycle of fear and guilt. Fear of what the boy may be and fear of what they might have to do. Guilt when they realized that they had entertained the thought of putting a child to death. Fear when they thought of what the Moon's Commander thought of their musings and subsequent guilt when they realized how very horrible it was to allow their human fears to block the power of that Spirit in their lives. Round and round they went, fear and guilt playing tag as the world melted around them. They were blind to the moon and its pleas for them to listen, and blind to the light in the world that shone through the shroud of darkness.

They shut the moon out with their worry and he found it easier to soften the hard heart of Mother Nature than to break through the iron door that was their fears and guilt. He could not help them if they would not let him, so he turned to one of the old and faithful followers to guide their wayward hearts. She fought him too at first, but the memory of blue eyes that shone with light and potential finally broke through her shields and sent her to knock on the door of the Guardian of Wonder.

**So I'm going on vacation next week (I will be gone for a few update slots) and I will try to get a chapter up before I go (and no I will not be posting while I'm gone, the forest does not have wifi…sorry). Lucky for you guys its already written and edited and I'm just going to make you wait until Monday or Tuesday before I post it :P **

**Thanks so much for reading, and if you feel so inclined, pop a review in the box and make my day! (Lets beat 20 reviews! WHOOT WHOOT!)!**

**~Victoria **


	10. Chapter 10: Moving Mountains

**A/N: Wow! Holy Crap guys a whole 21 reviews in only a week! That's the most I've ever received in that short of a time span! You blew me away so I wrote you a chapter that will knock your socks off (and probably break a few of your preconceptions as well lol!). But before we get to that, here's some shoutouts to you wonderful people!**

**AzazelLuciferCrowley: Yes our resident bad guy will be making a reappearance quite soon!**

**Moonshroom420: Yes and no, this next chapter and the one that follows will start to clear things like that up a bit. Essentially right now he is just a mindless drone, but in a chapter or two…we'll see :) The fear of the sandman question will definitely be answered this chapter. **

**MagentaScribe: m'kay, here it is!**

**Guest: Because the trees hate us! But look, I got a chapter up before I left! And they took my computer away already so I'm typing this A/N up on a different machine! (I think I'm already experiencing withdrawls). And I believe the girl you are referring to (If it is Seraphina you are thinking about) is Mother Nature. Seraphina is her other name. **

**Taranodongirl1: Thanks so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Daughter of Wisdom and Music: Thank you!**

**Kiss-My-Asphalt: my answer to your hopelessness and speculation is in the four pages below. Enjoy. **

**Beanie-art1: Oh it is! And yes he reminds me of a feral child too. Oh my gosh and I was totally in the mood for tacos and there are so many friendly bears out there! Anywho, have fun with your drugged tea and taco bears! See you somewhere around the 10****th**** of August! **

**I.F.T.S: we got twenty one! A record for this story! And I can't wait to see their reaction to this chapter either!**

**Sheeijan: Don't worry! Pretty much everyone hates MiM right now! But I promise he will be redeemed by the end of this story!**

**Caitycaterpillar: FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD READ THE CHAPTER BELOW TO SATISFY YOUR CRAVINGS FOR REDEMTION AND FREEDOM! …I'm not quite sure what happened there…**

**Bug349: Well last chapter was the ugly duckling before this swan of a chapter so enjoy! **

**A Stripped Tigger: Because he makes a mess wherever he goes! Yay for Pitch movie quotes!**

**Doubled-Helix: yeah her reappearance was quite overdo wasn't it? And Yay for rhymes!**

**Notasongfic: just chant BLIZZARD real loud and I might hear you from wherever I am in comparison to you and you just might get one! Either that or Jack will hear you and give you a blizzard…**

**Thisisentertaining: Hehe yeah her absence was a bit unnerving. Knowing me it will probably cause story drama later on…**

**TearsDrippingDown: Thanks and I would never forget all you beautiful people! Look, I'm even updating after they confiscated my computer for safe keeping!**

**Dragongirl2011: here's an update only five days later! **

**Azhaeda: they are nothing if they are not extreme lol! Aww and I'm so glad I got those accents right! There's nothing worse than reading a fic where there are supposed to be iconic accents and there are none :/ Thanks and yeah its sort of camping, it's a fishing trip at a lodge farrr up in the wilderness. Where stepping in bear crap is common lol! **

**Michaela95:Thanks so much and enjoy the next chapter!  
MoonGirl1155: Thanks for all the reviews and I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! I'm glad its original (first chapter praise! Yay!) It was gross wasn't it? I was aiming for older teenage girl catnip when thinking up this fic. HERE'S AN UPDATE TO HOLD YOU OVER UNTIL I GET BACK! *throws update and runs away***

**Disclaimer: I own NOTING! Noting at all. Except my ideas…and my keyboard…ENJOY!**

Chapter 10: Moving Mountains

She had knocked for quite some time before he answered, but he let her in and entertained her for a while instead of the fear and guilt. She didn't try to melt his heart and comfort his humanity with promises that the boy was a pure soul. She didn't attempt to whisk away the centuries old child that lay in a bed with a golden band around his head. She merely sat and recalled three hundred years worth of memories, starting with a cape clad newborn who was stolen away from the light of the world.

Before an hour passed, the others had gathered around and tears were freely shed. More than once they had felt the urge over the years to check up on the silent Nightmare King, but they had shrugged it off and ignored the prodding of the Moon and his Commander. Jökul had paid the price for their unwillingness to step out of their daily routine. Seraphina was not angry with them. She had no right to be when she had been the one to abandon him when he was no longer convenient. If anything they should have been angry with her, but sorrow outweighed all other emotions in their hearts.

By the time she had finished they were all standing silently in the room they had confined the boy into for their safety. The room was padlocked and sealed completely, its only occupant restrained to the gurney with iron cuffs and a band of woven sand that wrapped around his head. He had begun to look sick from being forced to sleep for so long and his nose was inflamed from the feeding tube they had placed to sustain him. He took shaky breaths every few moments that did not betray a restful slumber.

Mother Nature watched him silently for quite some time, taking inventory of his healing injuries and the dilapidated state of his body. Pitch had not cared for him after her abandonment. She ran her fingers through his dirty hair, nails catching on old scars and scabbed wounds. He didn't respond to the touch. She sighed and turned away. She now realized how very wrong she had been to leave him when he was broken. Her heartbreak was a pitiful excuse for abandoning a soul to wallow in darkness. She couldn't help but wonder if the outcome would have changed had she stayed with him.

"Sera, is there anything we can do to help him?" Tooth asked, breaking the mistress of seasons from her thoughts.

"That I do not know," the woman responded. "He has been like this for over two hundred years. It's hard to know if there is anything left to rescue after so very long. The darkness is so strongly knitted into him that separation from it could very well mean death."

"Well we must try something!" The Fairy Queen announced. "We are not Guardians at all if we abandon him to either an eternity in hell or a merciful death. He deserves better than that after all of our shortcomings. If the Man in the Moon and his Commander promised this boy a deliverance from evil then it shall come to pass. All we must do is be obedient."

"Ah second that," Bunny chimed from the corner of the cell. "'E needs 'elp and if we can give it, then we're gunna give it."

"Is only right ting to do. If ve are to be doing someting about dis den I vill not be saying no."

Sandy nodded solemnly in agreement, his heart already heavy with the revelation of what he had been assigned to do. Every spirit was given gifts and each one of those gifts was purposed for more than one thing. His sand, though used primarily as a dream caster, would tonight become the vessel of deliverance.

"Sandman," Mother Nature called softly. "Do you know what we have to do?"

Another solemn nod was his only reply.

"Then it is through us that he will be returned to the light?"

Another nod.

"Good. Let us begin." With a curt nod, The Sandman began his delegations. Pictures of needed items flashed above his head while he worked to prepare the boy, sending him into a deep and painless slumber while his comrades prepared an empty room deep in the bowels of Santoff Clausen. When the room was ready, North returned, unshackled the boy, and carried him in his arms down three flights of stairs. He never stirred, even when they laid him on the sheet covered table and tied him down with the leather straps. Pain would almost certainly be involved and as much as it hurt _them_ to cinch the straps so tight, they knew it was only what was best for him.

The beginning of the evening was uneventful. The Sandman spent over an hour at the boy's head, searching for any indication to show him how to proceed. By the time he had a plan, dreamsand had filled the air with his thoughts and sent all the others to sleep. So he began alone, sending small streams of sand into the boy's mouth and nose. Jökul seemed to take it well, breathing without difficulty besides a cough or two, and Sandy let him rest for a bit before he tried to cast out the darkness.

He wiped his golden hand across his brow, let a silent prayer pass his lips, and placed his hands on the boy's temples. But before he could begin, the black sand attacked the invader and Jökul's eyes shot open. A blood curdling scream rang through the room, pitching the others into consciousness and sending Sandy back a few feet before he regained his courage and once again took his place at the boy's head. All plans had flown out the window the moment the sprite's eyes opened and Sandy gripped his sand in an iron fist. With another scream, the boy began to thrash against the restraints, eyes swirling black and gold.

Chaos ruled supreme as many hands held down the thrashing body, their own screams mingling with his awful screeches. His back arched and slammed painfully with every advance of the Sandman's weapons, like the black sand within him was trying to smash the boy open to provide a route of escape. The spasms were so powerful even North was displaced when he bucked.

Sandy closed his eyes and blocked out the chaos that surrounded, mercilessly beating back the darkness with his light. Again and again he pushed forward, ripping it to shreds even while its own strikes were felt within his very body. This was his purpose, this was his fight, and he would not be shaken down no matter how loud the darkness made the boy scream or how hard it bashed him against the table. It wasn't until spindly arms snapped the leather straps and pale fingers gripped him tightly by the hair that Sandy lost his concentration. Eyes black as night, the boy snarled and threw him across the room by his head, a pulse of ice sending the rest of the warriors of light into the walls. The room trembled as the remaining straps snapped free. Bare feet hit the floor and a snarl cut the air like a knife but he did not dare attack any of them. He paced from wall to wall, obsidian eyes locked on the little golden man that floated not even three feet away.

Sandy regarded the boy silently, listening to him growl and grind his teeth while he paced uneasily. He sent his sand deeper while their eyes were locked, destroying the dark grains while their host bellowed and screamed in pitches no human voice could ever reach. He pushed forward relentlessly, keeping his distance from the fingers that clawed the air around him and ripping down the barriers the enemy had placed. He continued on with vivacious ferocity until the force of evil had dwindled to nearly nothing and would have pushed on until there was nothing left had it not been for the sand's chance of tactic. The evil was not without its other methods and it very much so wanted to continue to live. So when it could not face its opponent head on, it took a hostage to ensure its survival.

Quite suddenly, the Sand fled into the furthest reaches of Jökul's mind, the boy's macabre growls and screeches suddenly dropping into the anguished cries of a child in agony. Falling to his knees he clapped his hands over his ears and screamed in terrible pain. Though his heart was breaking, Sandy pushed on in search of the enemy, trying his best to block out the choking sobs. The others could do nothing but watch as black eyes returned to grey and the frail body shook with pain. Blood trickled from his ears and nose.

Though it was killing the child, the Sandman pushed on and cornered the blackness in his body. Sensing its coming demise, it threw Jökul into a seizure, wracking his body with tremors as bloody froth bubbled from his mouth. Sandy let go, hoping and praying that the host could be spared if the parasite within him was allowed to live, but the sand did not release the child. His seizing only grew more violent with the retreat.

Sandy began to panic. He couldn't do it! He couldn't save this boy and now he would die. A strangled whine and a gag from the winter sprite sent Sandy to the floor, little golden hands rolling him gently so the black vomit trickling from the boy's mouth would not choke him while he thrashed. The bringer of dreams tried again to rid the boy of the poison, but the gurgling scream that followed only reminded him of his failure. A panicked and half lucid plea cried out from within him, meant not for the Moon but for the one that made it.

_Help me! Help me! Please help me save him!_

And though requested in desperation and surrounded by chaos, the Commander's reply was easily heard.

_Not through your power, Bringer of Dreams, but through Mine shall he be saved. Release your hold on his life and trust in Me. _

With a silent sob, Sandy let go of his ties to the sand and stepped back from the boy.

_Command it to leave, Sanderson. _

_I have no voice. _

_Who made the mute and deaf? The ears and mouth? Was it not I? Speak and command the evil within the boy to flee. _

_I can't!_

_Do not doubt. Even a child with the faith the size of a grain of sand can command the mountains to move and they will move. The time has come to be movers of mountains, Sanderson. Now speak. _

And for the first time since the day of his birth, Sandy felt a tingling at the base of his throat. He felt it swell within him, powerful and awe-inspiring. Felt it build up in his chest and fly from his mouth, a rich baritone yelling "OUT!"

And the black sands _fled. _

Within two seconds, Jökul's body stopped seizing and arched rigidly off the floor. He collapsed with a shudder, gold and black sand streaming from his mouth and nose. Torn from its host, the black sand was consumed by the golden in moments.

Sandy rushed towards the boy; his entire body trembling as he slid the sweat soaked head into his lap. The boy was shaking too. Sandy stroked the sprite's brow, trying to offer some small comfort while the others recovered and began to help. The boy's eyes opened, revealing the clearest shade of cerulean blue Sandy had ever seen.

**Well now that I've gone and done that, y'all are going to have to wait until I get back from roughin' it to get a new chapter. MWAHAHAHA! **

**If you're confused by anything in this chapter or the story in general, feel free to PM me or leave a question in a review. **

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